/^7 7 






LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




014 386 508 3 §' 



•I 



HoUinger Corp, 




I^PfclCIiS IS CEIVTS. 



1 



v^ BE WITT'S ACTING- PLAYS, e^ 

(Number 213.) 




LONDON ASSURANCE. 

By DION L. BOUCICAULT, 

Author of " The Shaugrauriy^ " Love in a Maze^* " The Octoroon,^* 

" Our American Cousin^ " The Colleen Baton" " Arrah 

na-Pogue" etc., etc. 

As First Produced at Govent Garden Theatre, London, in 1841, and at 
the Park Theatre, New York, Oct. 11 of the same Year. 

AN ENTIRELY NEW ACTING EDITION. 

With fall Stag-e Directions— Ssmopsis of the Scenery— Full 

Description of Costumes expressly Compiled for this 

Work— Story of the Play— Remarks- Notes, etc. 

Edited By 
ALFRED B. SEDOWICK, 

Auifuorof '■'■Leap Yea?:'" " The Tivin Sisfey's,'" "■ The Queerest Cou'i 
'^My Walking Photograph,'''' " Sold Again and Got the Money^ 
" Circumstances Alter Cases,'" etc., etc., etc. 




CLINTON T. DE WITT, PUBLISHER. 

No. 83 HoBe Street. 




NOW 

ftEAI>T 




COMPLETE DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE OF DE WITT'S ACTING 
WITT'S ETHIOPIAN AND COMIC DRAMAS, containing 
Scenery, Time of Eepresentation, and every other informa- 
aud post-paid. 



No. M 

75. Adrienn*, drama, 3 acts T 

114. Anything for a Change, comedy, 1 " 



167. Apple Bfossoms, comedy, 3 acts. 



6 4 



7 3 



DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. 



IW^ Please notice that nearly all the Comedies, Farces and Comediettas in the following 
hst »^De Witt's Acting V-Lkns,'''' are very suitable for representation in small Amateur Thea 
tret^and on Parlor Stages, as they need but little extrinsic aid from comjilicated scetienj or 
exj)en3ive costumes. They have attained their deserved poimlarity by their droll situations^ 
excellent x>lots, great humor and brilliant dialogues, no less than by the fact that they are the 
jnost perfect in every respect of any edition of plays ever published either in the United Statti 
or Europe, whether as regards purity of the text, accuracy and fulness of stage directions and 
scenery, or elegance of tijpography and clearness of printing. 

*** In ordering please copy the figures at the commencement of each jJiece, which itidicate 
the number of the liiece in "De Witt's List of Acting Plats." 

'^^ Any of the following Plays sent, postage free on- receipt of price — 15 
cents each. 

Address, ROBERT M. DEWITT, 

JVo. 33 Siose Slreei, JVew York. 

JJ^" The figure following the name of the Play denotes the number of 

Acts. The figures in the columns indicate the number of characters — M.male; 

F. female. 

No. 

21. Dreams, drama, 5 acts 

186. Duchess de la Valliere, play, 5 acts. 

47. Easy Shaving, farce, 1 act 5 

13). Everybody's Friend, comedy, 3 acts. 6. 5i 

200. Estranged, an operetta, 1 act 2 1 

103. Faust, and Marguerite, drama, 3 acts, 9 7' 
9. Fearful Tragedy in the Seven Dials, 

interlude, 1 act 4 1 

128. Female Detective, drama, 3 acts. .. .11 4 

101. Fernande, drama, 3 acts 11 10 

99. Fifth Wheel, comedy, 3 acts 10 2 

145. First Love, comedy, 1 act 4 1 

102. Foiled, drama. 4 acts 9 S 

88. Founded on Facts, farce, 1 act. ... 4 2 

74. Garrick Fever, farce, 1 act 7 4 

53. Gertrude's Money Box, farce, 1 act. 4 '^ 

73. Golden Fetter (Fettered), drama, 3 11 4 
30. Goose with the Golden Eggs, farce, 

1 act 5 3 

Go to Putney, farce, 1 act 4 :i 

Happy Pair, comedietta, 1 act 1 1 

Hard Case (A), farce, 1 act 2 

Henry Dunbar, drama, 4 acts 10 '^ 

Henry the Fifth, historical play, 5 38 5 

He's a Lunatic, farce, 1 act 3 v! 

Hidden Hand, drama, 4 acts 5 5 

His Own Euemy, farce, 1 act 4 J 

Home, comedy, 3 acts 4 .'5 

64. Household Fairy, sketch, 1 act 1 1 

190 Hunting the Slipper, farce, 1 act 4 1 

191. High C, comedietta, 1 act 4 ^i 

197. Hunchback (The), play, 5 acts 14 'J 

18. If I Had a Thousand a Year, farce, 

1 act 4 

116. I'm Not Mesilf at All, original Irish 
stew, 1 act 3 

129. In for a Holiday, farce, 1 act 2 

159. In the Wrong House, farce, 1 act. . . 4 

122. Isabella Orsiiii, drama, 4 acts 11 

177. I Shall Invite the Major, comedy, 1 4 

100. Jack Long, drama, 2 acts. 9 

139. Joy is Dangerous, comedy, 2 acts. . . 3 

17. Kind to a Fault, comedy, 2 acts 6 

86. Lady of Lyons, play, 5 acts 12 



Area Belle (The), farce, 1 act 

Atchi, comedietta, 1 act 

Aunt Charlotte's Maid, farce, 1 act. . 3 

Game of Cards (A), comedietta, 1 3 

Bardell vs. Pickwick, sketch, 1 act. 6 

Beautiful Forever, farce, 1 act 2 

Bells (The), drama, 3 acts 9 



3 2 

3 3 

1 

2 



67. Birthplace of Podgers, farce, 1 act . . 7 

36. Black Sheep, drama, 3 acts 7 

160. Blow for Blow, drama, 4 acts 11 

70. Bonnie Fish Wife, farce, 1 act 3 

179. Breachof Promise., drama, 2 acts.. 5 
25. Broken-Hearted Club, comedietta, 1 4 

24. Cabman, No. 93, farce, 1 act 2 

1. Caste, comedy, 3 acts 5 

Caught by the Cuff, farce, 1 act 4 

Cast upon the World, drama, 5acts.l0 
Catharine Howard, historical play, 

3 acts 12 

Charming pair, farce, 1 act 4 

Checkmate, comedy, 2 acts 6 

Chevalier de St. George, drama, 3 9 



175. 
55. 



76. Chops of the Channel, farce, 1 act. 3 

149. Clouds, comedy, 4 acts 8 

121. Comical Countess, farce, 1 act 3 

107. Cupboard Love, farce, 1 act 2 

152. Cupid's Eye-Glass, comedy, 1 act... 1 

52. Gup of Tea, comedietta, 1 act 3 

148. Cut off with a Shilling, comedietta, 

1 act 2 

113. Cyrill's Success, comedy, 5 acts — 10 
199. Captain of the Watch (The), come- 
dietta, 1 act 4 

20. Daddy Gray, drama, 3 acts 8 

4. DaTidelion's Dodges, farce, 1 act 4 

22. David Garrick, comedy, 3 acts 8 

96. Dearest Mamma, comedietta, 1 act, 4 

16. Dearer tlian Life, drama, 3 acts 6 

58. Deborah (Leah) drama, 3 acts 7 

125. Deerfoot, farce, 1 act 5 

71. Doing for the Best, drama, 2 acts. . 5 
142. Dollars and Cents, comedy, 3 acts. . 9 



131. 



151. 



180. 
19. 



187. 
174. 



3, 



LONDON ASSUEANCE. 



% Comtbg, 
IN FIVE ACTS. 

y 

BY DION L. i^OUCIOAULT, 

Author of ^' The Shaitgraun,^' "Love in a Maze,''' "The Octoroon,'" "Our Atnerican 
Cousin,^'' "The Colleen Bawn,'''' "Arrah-na-Pogue,''' etc., etc. 



AS FIRST PRODUCED AT COVENT GARDEN THEATRE, LONDON, IN 

1841, AND AT THE PARK THEATRE, NEW YORK, OCT. 11 OF 

THE SAME YEAR. 



AN ENTIRELY NEW ACTING EDITION 



"WITH FUIili STAGE DIRECTIONS — CAST OF CHARACTERS — SYNOPSIS OF 

SCENERY — FULL DESCRIPTION OF COSTUMES EXPRESSLY 

COMPILED FOR THIS WORK — STORY OF THE 

PLAY — REMARKS — NOTES, ETC. 



EDITED BY 

ALFRED B. SEDGWICK, 

Author of "Leap Year," " The Twin Sisters,'' " The Queerest Courtship,'''' "My 
Walking Photograph,"' "Sold Again and Got the Money,'''' "Circum- 
stances Alter Cases," etc., etc., etc. 



^J^o n>]f f^ 



NEW Y OR K.- 
CLINTON T. DE WITT, PUBLISHER, 

No. 33 Robe Street. 

(between DUANE A.ND FRANKFORT STREETS.) 

Copyright, 1877, by Clinton T. Dk Witt. 



L/S773 



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LONDON ASSURANCE. 



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LONDON ASSURANCE, 






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SYNOPSIS OF SCENERY. 

ACT I. 

Reception-Koom in Sir Harcourt's House, London. 

ACT II. 

Manor-House and Grounds, Oak Hall, Gloucestershire. 

ACTS III., IV. AND V. 

Drawing-Room and Boudoir in Oak Hall. 



TIME OF REPRESENTATION— TWO HOURS AND FORTY-FIVE MINUTES. 



ACT I.— Vestibtile Interior. Brown striped wainscoting. 
I Alcove. I 



Pedestal and Bust. 



Pedestal and Bust. 



2 E. Door. 



Door 3 



Table and Chairs. 



Table and Chairs. 



Red Drngget. 
c. 



Obchestra. 



ACT II.— 'Park Exterior. Light wood and distant road. 

Backing. 



Tree Winga. 



Tree. 



Trees. 

B. 



C-Tree. 



Tree.C- 



Park Railing. | Gate. | Park Railiuc 

O Statue. O Statue. • 



Interior Back. 



,Cut Tree, 



Door. 



.Cut Tree. 



, Garden Seat. 



Table and 
• Chairs. 



Large French Window. 



Green Cloth representing Grass. 



Wing 1 E. 



Oechestea. 



4 liONDON ASSURANCE. 

ACTS III., IV. and V.— Half-flat representing interior of Drawing-room. Hand- 
some crimson furniture. 

Garden Scene backing. 



: : ■•.■:• 

• ; Looking-glass. 




Door. Table and Vase jk^ Door, 
with Bust. jo) m(c! 


Grand O Piano, 

*Chair. 

* Arm- chair. 


• Interior 
• Backing. 


looking on to *: ** 


Large Door. 


garden backing. ' •••*• . 

O Ottoman. Table and Chairs. 


*. 


Set Door. * • • * 


• 



Table and Chairs. ^ 
Wing. Brussels Carpet. Wing 1 e. 



Oechestea. 



COSTUMES. 

Sib Harcouet Courtley.— i^irs^ dress : Handsome brocaded dressing-gown ; 
embroidered slippers ; silk stockings ; gold embroidered cap ; dark curly wig, 
etc. Second dress : Black frock coat and trousers ; white vest ; high black 
stock and stand-up collar. Third dress : Black evening suit. 

Charles Courtlby.— -J^i?-*/ dress : Dark green coat ; light pants ; dark vest ; cloak 
with pockets. Second dress: Dark-brown frock-coat. Third dress: Fash- 
ionable black suit. 

Max Yi.xR\i.A\yAY.—First dress : Dark coat, cnt in the sporting style of a rich 
country gentleman ; white vest ; black pants ; drab, high gaiters ; walking- 
stick ; gray wig. Second dress : Old gentleman's black dress-suit. 

Dazzle.— First d7'€ss : Green fashionable cut-away coat ; drab pants; dark vest. 
Second dress: The same, with addition of light summer overcoat. Third 
dress : Blue dress-coat ; brass buttons ; black pants. 

Meddle.— Dark clerical suit. 

Dolly Spanker.— i^i?-s< dress: Dark-blue coat; check pants and vest. Second 
dress : Black evening-suit. 

Cooh.— First dress : Light coat ; white vest ; black pants. Second dress : Black 
suit. 

Servants.— Undress livery. 

Lady Gay Spanker.— i^i?s< dress : Crimson velvet riding habit ; gentleman's high 
hat ; green veil ; riding whip. Second dress : Genteel dinner dress of the 
period. 

Grace U \tik away. —First dress: Fashionable white muslin morning-dress. 
Second dre.^s : Fashionable dinner costume. 

Pert.— Neat dark merino dress ; ribbons ; white apron. 



LONDON ASSUKANCE. 



PROPERTIES. 

ACT I.— Knocker and bell for prompter ; t.ible and chairs r. and l., covered ; 
knockers and broken bell-pulls for Cuaulel! Courtley to produce from pocket ; 
cards on traj', and hand-bell on table, r. h. ; drugget for lioor. 

ACT II.— Flowers in pot, practicable, to pluck, and garden chairs ; written paper ; 
note book with leaf to tear out, and pencil for Dazzlk ; green carpet down to 
represent lawn. 

ACT III.— Chintz furniture ; table and two chairs, r. c, well down ; ottoman r. 
c. ; grand piano and stool al back, sofa near it, l. c. ; table and two chairs, c, with 
flowers, etc. ; chairs spread in other parts of the room ; writing materials and 
candelabra with lighted candles on table c. ; riding-whip for Lady Gay Spanker ; 
dinner bell for prompter ; folded letter for Cool ; pocket-book and stamped accep- 
tance for Dazzle ; chess-board and chess-men on table, l. c. ; arm-chair l. c. 2e. ; 
small table backed by gilt mirror, with vase and bust on it, against flat, l. c. ; 
Brussels carpet. 

ACT ly.— Furniture, etc., same as Act III.; smelling-bottle for Sir Harcourt ; 
dinner-bell for prompter. 

ACT v.— Two sure-firing pistols, at l. 1 e. ; writing material , red sealing-wax 
and lighted taper on table, c; cigars in cigar-case, for Dazzle. 



EXPLANATION OF THE STAGE DIRECTIONS. 
The Actor is supposed to face the Audience. 



B.X7.X. 



6C£N£. 



B.8X. 
B.3X. 



/ 



\ 



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B.1S. 



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L. 3X. 



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B. O. O. Z.. 0. 

ATTDIENCE. 



L. Left. 

L. c. Left Centre. 

L. 1 E. Left First Entrance. 

L. 2 E. Left Second Entrance. 

L,. 3 E. Left Third Entrance. 

I-. u. E. Left Upper Entrance 

(wherever this Scene may be. 

D. L. c. Door Left Centre. 



c. Centre. 

B. Right. 

R. 1 E. Right First Entrance. 

B. 2 E. Right Second Entrance. 

B. 3 E. Right Third Entrance. 

B. u. E. Right Upper Entrance, 

». B. c- Door Eight Centre. 



liONDON ASSURANOB. 



sYJsropsis. 



Those who attend a performance of " London Assurance " at the present day, 
will scarcely realize it as being an accurate photograph of the current "outside" 
ways and manners of Londoners between the years 1835 to 1840. Those times 
when the late eccentric Marquis of Waterford ruled supreme as chief spirit of all 
the follies of the day. 

Charles Courtley, a young man of fashion, and a collegian on vacation— 
(those who have read " Tom Brown at Oxford " will readily understand the char- 
acter)— has been on a "spree." He has picked up— or rather has been picked up 
by a quondam acquaintance— one Dazzle, whom he has no recollection of having 
seen before, and probably never had. Mr. Dazzle is a man about town. He cuts 
a respectable appearance, and having no apparent means of living, manages to 
make an apparently respectable living— without means. Everybody seems to tol- 
erate him, but no one knows who he is, or where he came from. Dazzle is — 
Dazzle, who having with much trouble and ingenuity managed to entice Charles 
Courtley home at about half-past nine in the morning, much to the discontent 
of the sleepy servants,'who have been waiting up all night for him, to hide his in- 
discretions from his father, before that venerable dandy, who is undoubtedly the 
fashionable scounctrel of the play, shall have rung the bell for his morning choco- 
late. Not that they are at all pleased to find him brought home in so very dilapi- 
dated condition by a stranger, or to see hiui produce broken knockers and bell- 
handles from his pockets as trophies of success. But as there is no time to 
lose, they, with the assistance of Dazzle, manage to get him to bed before the 
entrance of Sir Harcourt ; who, whatever he may be himself, holds firm convic- 
tion in the strict morality of his .-on. 

Sir Harcourt Courtley, though now over sixty, still imagines himself a young 
man, and a handsome one at that. A spendthrift in his youth, he has been the 
victim of an old friend, a Mr. Harkaway, who advanced him heavy sums of 
money, taking as security moitgages on the Courtley property. To use his own 
words, " being a penurious, niiserly, ugiy old scoundrel, he made a market of my 
indiscretion, and supplied my extravagance with large sums of money on mort- 
gages, his great desire being to unite the two properties. About seven years ago 
he died, leaving Grace, his daughter, to the guardianship of her uncle, with this 
will : If on attaining the age of nineteen she would consent to marry me, I should 
receive those deeds and all his property as her dowry. If she refused to comply 
with this condition, they should revert to my heir, presumptive or apparent. She 
consents. I consent to receive her £15,000 a year." 

Thus we see him, with almost one foot in the grave, preparing to commit matri- 
mony, although he has never seen the lady since her childhood, having lived on the 
Continent seven years previous to the opening of the play. While so engaged he 
is visited by Squire Max Harkaway, Grace's uncle and guardian, a bluff, hearty, 
honest fox hunter, who thinks more of a brisk chase than of all the fashionable fol- 
lies of the day put together. He is opposed to the match, but has no i)ower to pre- 
vent it ; and it is finally agreed that they shall go down to Max's seat in Gloucester- 
shire, together, in order that Sir Harcourt may be introduced to Grace. Sir 
Harcourt retires to prepare his toilet (a ceremony which with him supersedes all 
otliers), leaving Harkaway to await his return. While so doing he encounters 
Dazzle, who has managed to get Charles to lie down. Taken by his off-hand 
numner, and presuming, from finding him making so free in the house, that he 
must be an intimate friend of the family, Max cordially invites Dazzle to join the 
l)arty at Oak Hall. Dazzle of course accepts at once. It would be against his 
interest to refuse. Sir Harcourt and Squire Harkaway depart for Gloucester- 
shire, and later in the day, Charles, having slept off the effects of his last night's 



liONDON ASSURANCE. 7 

debauch, and finding Dazzle making himself quite at home, orders the servants 
to show him the door. But Dazzle wont go. He has once got his foot in the 
Courtley mansion, and means to keep it there. He reproaches Charles with in- 
gratitude, and to show tliat lie is above petty malice, he in the coolest manner 
actually invites him down to his country house, "Oak Hall, Gloucestershire." 
Charles, who has been kept at school or college all his life, knows nothing of the 
Harkaways, and as he is beset by duns and sheriff's officers, he, to avoid one of the 
most i)ersistent, a IVIr. Solomon Isaacs, who is then waiting in the hall for him, 
jumps at the chance, and off they go, (leaping through the stables, on their jou- 
ney to Gloucestershire. 

The second Act opens at the house and grounds of Squire Harkaway, Grace 
is momentarily expecting the return of her uncle, accompanied by Sir Harcourt. 
She is a country girl, who has never seen the world, never had an affaire de com; 
knows nothing of love, has no objection to marr^' a man she has never seen, and 
who is nearly old enough to be her grandfather, and looks on marriage as a mere 
mercantile transaction. We are here introduced to a personage who is mixed up 
with all the other characters of the piece to a considerable extent during the rest 
of the action, one Mr. Mark Meddle, a pettifogging country lawyer, who is al- 
ways poking his nose into ether people's business, in hope of obtaining a fee. He 
has just discovered the news of the approaching wedding through the columns of 
the village newspaper, and is fishing for spoils. To draw up the marriage contract 
would be the acme of professional bliss, and he has called at the Hall to pump the 
servants, but they are not to be pumped. Dazzle and Charles have just arrived, 
and Dazzle meeting Meddle on the lawn, mistakes him for one of the family, 
and immediately begins to cultivate his acquaintance. Meddle, nothing loath, re- 
ciprocates, and they are getting on remarkably well, when Charles, who while 
walking through the grounds has caught a glimpse of Grace and fallen desperately 
in love at first sight, enters, and is immediately introduced to the lawyer by Daz- 
zle, as his very old friend, Mr. Meddle, while he introduces Charles as " Mr. 
Augustus Hamilton." Dazzle having discovered Grace's name, hurries off to in- 
troduce himself, when a comical scene ensues between Meddle and young Court- 
ley. 

Meddle, afterwards seeing the future Lady Courtley and " Mr. Augustus 
Hamilton " in close conversation, hides behind a tree to take notes in the event of 
a future " Crim. Con. " case. Charles, who is likewise only known to Grace by 
the name of Hamilton, enters into a desperate flirtation with her, when he dis- 
covers that she is about to be married— but not to whom ? They are interrupted by 
a servant announcing the return of Max Harkaway, accompanied by an unknown 
gentleman, whom Grace hastens to greet as her future husband. Charles, 
anxious to find out whether there is any truth in Grace's statement, as also the 
name of the bridegroom, consults Meddle, but that wily gentleman can impart no 
intelligence without a heavy fee. Baffled here, he hastens to call on Dazzle to 
assist him. 

Meanwhile Grace has been introduced to Sir Harcourt, and Dazzle has been 
welcomed by Max, to whom he has introduced Charles as his particular friend, 
" Augustus Hamilton." And now comes one of the strongest situations In the 
play, the meeting between father and sou, and the denial of his father's identity 
by that son. 

Max, in his bluff country hospitality, hastens to introduce the two young men 
to Sir Harcourt Courtley, who of course, with the greatest possible surprise, 
instantly recognizes his own offspring, although the old gentleman is considerably 
ashamed of having to own to so old a son. Charles, in his confusion, by advice 
of Dazzle, denies being Charles Courtley— or even knowing such a person. Sir 
Harcourt, in amazement, calls on his valet Cool as a witness. But this personage, 
true to his name, as coolly denies his young master, " No, sir ; it is not Mr. 
Charles— but it is very like him !" A short dispute follows, urged on by Meddle, 
who would like to be retained for an action, when luncheon is announced— that great 



8 liONDON ASSURANCE. 

pacificator of angry passion— and all retire save Meddle and Cool, who have a 
very funny little interview, which terminates the Act. 

A lapse of two days has taken place between the second and third Acts, and 
we find the parties seated in Max Harka way's drawing-room, Grace and Charles 
being engaged in a game of chess. Sir Harcourt is full of angry suspicion. He 
looks on Charles and Dazzle as a pair of swindlers, and has written up to Lou- 
don ordering his son's instant appearance at Oak Hall. The cool, impudent man- 
ner in which Dazzle treats the baronet, is fanning a flame in the breast of the 
haughty old coxcomb, that is not a little heightened by the evident flirtation 
amounting to love passages that are still being kept up between Charles and Sir 
Harcourt's intended bride, when Mr. Adolphus and Lady Gay Spanker appear 
on the scene. Lady Gay Spanker ! Who and what is she ? " Glee ! glee ! made 
a living thing ! Nature in some frolic mood, shut up a merry devil in her eye, and 
spiting Art stole Joy's bright hannony to thrill her laugh, which peals out sorrow's 
knell. Her cry rings loudest in the field— the very echo loves it best, and as each 
hill attempts to ape her voice, earth seems to laugh that it made a thing so 
glad." 

Lady Gay is an Earl's daughter. As Max Harkaavay very tersely puts it, 
"she married Dolly for freedom, he— her for protection, and he has it !" In fact 
Dolly is an eccentric little gentleman, and as may well be supposed, of means. 
He is little better than a fool, but very fond of his "field sport" loving wife. 
Nevertheless, he is a gentleman, which some actors of the part have forgotten to 
perceive. He is exceedingly nervous, depending on his wife for advice in every- 
thing. He is even afraid to enter the room at the same time that his wife rushes 
in brimful of youthful spirits, fresh and blooming from her morning ride over the 
stone fences of Gloucestershire, and ready to devour her dear cousin Grace and 
her " dear old papa," as she calls Max, with kisses. The baronet, who is smitten 
at once, to the evident amazement of Dazzle, who now remains a quiet looker-on, 
wonders (after Lady Gay has laughingly refused his escort to Grace's apart- 
ments, where she will dress for dinner, and has run off to them alone), how it was 
possible that "Dolly ever summoned courage to propose." "Bless you, he never 
did," returns Harkaway. " She proposed to him. She says— he would, if he 
could 1 but as he couldn't— she did for him." 

Cool, in meantime, has intercepted Sir Harcourt's London message, and now 
comes to inform his young master. He luckily finds him alone with Dazzle. 
Charles is distracted and cannot possibly tear himself away from Grace, but 
Dazzle, ever ready for emergencies, and knowing how Sir Harcourt is set on 
the conquest of Dolly Spanker's protectress, forms a plan by which he can, with 
the aid of that lady, make Sir Harcourt readily consent to his sou's marriage 
with Squire Harkaway's ward and niece. He first assures Cool that Mr. Charles 
CouRTLEY will be on hand in person at the appointed time ; and then proceeds to 
tackle Sir Harcourt, whose mental thought as he approaches, amounts to " Here's 
that cursed fellow again !" Dazzle has a secret of importance to disclose to him, 
and an amusing scene ensues, wherein he tickles the old gentleman's vanity, by 
warning him agaiust the seductive society of Lady Spanker. At fir.st he is of- 
fended, but when Dazzle assures him that he is a distant relative of the Spankers, 
he is dumbfounded, and thinks he must be related to every distinguished family in 
Great Britain. Dazzle persuades him that Lady Gay has been much struck with 
his address ; that she has evidently laid herself out for display, in an endeavor to 
entangle him, till the baronet is in ecstacy at his good fortune. Of course he 
promises all that Dazzle requires, mentally resolving to do nothing of the kind 
but to efilect an easy conquest. They become mutually confidential. Dazzle as- 
sures him that the way in which he met Mr. Max Harkaway in Belgrave square, 
was through his son's charitable disposition. He held an accejjtance of his for 
£100, with which Charles had relieved a poor man with a large family ; and he 
actually wheedles the money out of the old man to pay the imaginary debt, first 
obtaining Charles' endorsement to half a dozeu notes, for which he has 



LONDON ASSURANCE. 9 

"stamped" blanks conveniently ready in his pocket-book, while assuring the 
younger Courtley that he ought to be glad to find a friend who not only gives 
hi:n good advice, but finds him money as well. 

Soon after Grace and Charles meet. A mutual understanding and a declara- 
tion take place, and he is in the act of folding her in his arms, when Lady Gay 
sufldenly sur/)rises them. Grace runs away in terrible confusion. Charles 
makes Lady Spanker his confidant ; tells her who he really is, and asks her as- 
sistance. She falls readily and merrily into the plot against Sir Harcourt— but 
how about Spanker ? He might object ? Oh ! he's an estimable little character. 
He could not possibly have any objection— and so my lady commences her work at 
the dinner-table. 

The fourth and fifth Acts are necessary to the development of the plot against 
Sir Harcourt. After dinner the ladies retire, while the gentlemen, as usual in 
those days, remain to discuss politics or otherwise chat over their wine. Grace 
receives a note from " Hamilton," renouncing her, and saying that he has left for 
London, which nearly makes her faint, or at least pretend to ; but he soon turns 
up again in his real character of Charles Harcourt. She sees through the ruse, 
and there is considerable love sparring between them. Meanwhile Dolly has 
taken a little too much wine at the table, and has become brave, tie wants to as- 
sert his rights as a man and a husband, to the extreme secret deliglit of Lady Gay, 
who dearly loves him. Still, knowing the position that both Charles and Grace 
are in, she carries on her flirtation with Sir Harcourt, till he actually proposes an 
elopement. Meddle has been watching and interfering with everybody. He 
watches Charles and Grace, Lady Gay and the baronet. He informs Dolly of 
the intended elopement, who gets violently jealous and challenges Sir Harcourt. 
The duel is, however, stopped by Max, through information from Lady Spanker, 
who fears for her husband's life, and feels that she has gone too far. Charles is 
arrested by Mr. Soloxon Isaacs, and thus his father is assured that "Mr. Auo-us- 
tus Hamilton " and his son are one and the same person. Grace pays the debt, at 
the same time offering her hand and fortune to Charles Courtley. Sir Har- 
court, finding that he has made a preposterous fool of himself in his old age, 
graciously consents. Dolly and Lady Spanker have come to an understanding, 
and feel happier with each other than ever before, while everybody is anxious to 
find out who Dazzle is. The substance of his reply is — " that Dazzle i* Dazzle !— 
and no one else." 

The comedy ends with a tag, which placed in the mouth of Sir Harcourt 
Courtley, is preposterous, as it consists of moral advice to his son. 



REMARKS 



The comedy of •' London Assurance " was first produced in America at the old 
Park Theatre, Oct. II, 1847, with an attention to scenery, furniture and appoint- 
ments hitherto unattempted on our stage. Quoting from Ireland's Records of the 
New York Stage, page 367, vol. 2, we find that in Sir Harcourt Courtley, Mr. 
Placide made an impression unequalled by any successor, and to this day is the 
only acknowledged representative of the part. Browne was accused of overdoing 
Dazzle, and dressed the character very shabbily, but his spirit and brazen assur 
ance were so much in keeping with its requirements, that over nice critics alone 
condemned him. Lady Gay Spanker was the first original character in high 
comedy in which Miss Charlotte Cushman made a decided hit. but she also was 
liable to the charge of overacting, a charge which did not justly lie at the door of 
Miss Clarendon, engaged expressly for Grace Hark a way. for she unfortunately 
scarcely axitcd at all, and after a few nights was withdrawn and Miss Bnloid sub- 
stituted. Wheatley made the best Charles Courtley, and Andrews the most 



10 LONDON ASSUKANCE. 

perfect Cool, that have ever been seen in New York. Notwithstanding the plight 
objections in the cast, " London Assurance " was the most popular play of the sea- 
son, during which it was performed nearly fifty tmies. We next hear of its being 
produced at the New Chatham, on the 9th of May, 1842, Mr. Lambert being ex- 
pressly engaged for Sir Harcourt, Mrs. Blake performing Lady Gay ; and at 
the Bowery under Mr. Hamblin's management, on the same evening, with Mr. 
Blake, Mr. Gilbert and Mrs. Shaw in the cast. 

It was again produced in New York at the Broadway Theatre, corner of Pearl 
and Anthony (now Worth) streets, then in the first season of its career, March 1, 
1848, with Mr. J. Lester Wallack (then acting under the name of Lester), as Dazzle, 
Mr. Blake as Sir Harcourt, G. Vandenhoflf as Charles, Miss Fanny Wallack as 
Lady Gay, and Miss Rose Telbin as Grace. 

Mr. Burton afterwards produced this comedy at his little theatre in Chambers 
street, July 16, 1849, with the first appearance of a " Southern gentleman ama- 
teur"' as Sir Harcourt, Burton himself taking the part of Meddle, while Mr. 
John Brougham was cast for Dazzle. 

We find that it was afterwards produced ait Wallack's old theatre (comer of Broome 
street and Broadway, now pulled down) at its re-opening under Mr. W. Stuart's 
management, on the 3d of September, 1857, with Mr. and Mrs. John- Wood, 
Walcot, Blake, Boucicault, Lester Wallack, Miss Agnes Robertson and Miss Mary 
Gannon in the cast ; it having been previously acted at Ni bio's, on the 28th of June 
in the same year, on which occasion Miss Charlotte Cushman once more resumed 
the fole of Lady Gay, Placide, Brougham and Blake assisting her. It was again 
repeated at Laura Keene's, Oct. 4, 1858, with the veteran J. S. Browne as Sir Har- 
court, and C. M. Walcot as Dazzle. 

Of the early casts in America, C. Wheatley, Blake, Abbott, Hamblin, W. A. 
Chapnvan, Placide, Lynn, Burton, J. S. Brown, Walcot, Charlotte Cushman, Mrs. 
Shaw, Helen Taylor, Mary Gannon and others have all passed away, and Lester 
Wallack, the genial John Brougham, and Mr. Gilbert are, among the privileged 
few left '* to tell the tale." 

" 'Tis true— 'tis pity I Pity 'tis— 't^p true." 

Alfred B. Sedgwick. 



LONDON ASSURANCE. 



ACT I. 

SCENE. — An ante-room in Sir Harcourt Courtley's liouse in Bel- 
grave square. 

Enter Cool, c. 

Cool. Half-past nine, and Mr. Charles has not yet returned. I am 
in a fever of dread. If his father happens to rise earlier than usual on 
any morning, he is sure to ask first for Mr. Charles. Poor deluded old 
gentleman— he little thinks how he is deceived. 

Enter Martin, lazily, l. 

Wen, Martin, he has not come home yet! 

Martin. No; and I have not had a wink of sleep all night. I can- 
not stand this any longer ; I shall give warning. This is the fifth night 
Mr. Courtley has remained out, and I'm obliged to stand at the hall 
window to watch for him. 

Cool. You know, if Sir Harcourt was aware that we connived at his 
son's irregularities, we should all be discharged. 

Mar. I have used up all my common excuses on his duns. " Call 
again," '*Not at home," and "Send it down to you," won't serve any 
more ; and Mr. Crust, the wine merchant, swears he will be paid. 

Cool. So the)' all say. Why, he has arrests out against him already. 
I've seen the fellows watching the door, {loud knock and ring heard) 
There he is, just in time — quick. Martin, fur I expect Sir William's bell 
every moment, {lell rings) and ihere it is. [Exit Martin, slowly. 

Thank Heaven ! he will return to college to-morrow, and this heavy re- 
sponsibility will be taken off my shoulders. A valet is as difficult a 
post to fill properly as that of prime minister. [Exit, l. 

Young C. {without). Hollo] 

Dazzle {without). Steady ! 

Enter Youxg Courtley and Dazzle, l. 

Young C. Hollo-o-o ! 

Daz. Hush! what are you about, howling like a Hottentot. Sit down 
there, and thank Heaven you are in Belgrave square instead of Bow 
street. 

Young C. D — d — d — n Bow street. 

Daz. Oh, with all my heart ! — you have not seen as much of it as I 
have. 

Youitg 0. I say — let me see — what was I going to say ? — oh, look 



12 LONDON ASSURANCE. [aCT I. 

here — {pulls out a large assortment of bell-pulls, knockers, etc., from 
his pocket) There ! daai'me! Ill puzzle the two-penny postmen — I'll de- 
prive ilieui of llieir right of disturbing the neighborhood. Tiiat black 
lion's head did belong to old Vampire, the money-lender; this bell-pull 
to Miss Stitch, the milliner. 

Daz. And this brass griffin • 

Young C. That ! oh, let me see — I think I twisted that off our own 
hall-door as 1 came in, while you were paying the cab. 

Daz. What shall I do with them 1 

Young C. Pack 'em up in a hamper, and send 'em to the sitting mag- 
istrate with my father's compliments ; in the meantime come into my 
room, and I'll astonish you with some Burgundy. 

Re-enter Cool. l. c. 

Cool (r.) Mr Charles 

Young C Out ! out ! not at home to any one. 

Cool. And drunk 

Young C. As a lord. 

Cool. If Sir Harcourt knew this, he would go mad, he would dis- 
charge me. 

Young C. You flatter yourself; that would be no proof of his in- 
sanity, {to Dazzle) This is Cool, sir, Mr. Cool ; he is the best liar in 
London — there is a pungency about his invejition, and an originality in 
his equivocation, that is perfectly refreshing. 

Cool {aside). Why, Mr. Charles, where did you pick him up ? 

Young C. You mistake, he picked me up. {bell rings.) 

Cool. Here comes Sir Harcourt — pray do not let hun see you in this 
state. 

Young C. State ! what do you mean 1 I am in a beautiful state. 

Cool. I should lose my character. 

Young C. That would be a fortunate epoch in your life, Cool. 

Cool. Your father would discharge me. 

Young C. Cool, my dad is an old ass. 

Cool. Retire to your own room, for Heaven's sake, Mr. Charles. 

Young C. I'll do it for my own sake, {to Dazzle) I say, old fellow, 
{staggering) jnat hold the door steady while I go in. 

Daz. This way. Now, then! — take care! 

[Helps him into the room, r. 

Enter Sir Harcouut Courtley, l. c, in an elegant dressing-gown, 
and Greek skull-cap and tassels, etc. 

Sir Harcourt. Cool, is breakfast ready ? 

Cool, Quite ready, Sir Harcourt. 

Sir H. Apropos. I omitted to mention that I expect Squire Harka- 
way to join us this morning, and you must prepare for my departure to 
Oak Hall immediately. 

Cool. Leave town in the middle of the season, Sir Harcourt ? So 
unprecedented a proceeding ! 

Sir H. It is ! 1 confess it ; there is but one power could effect such 
a miracle — that is divinity. 

Cool. How 1 

Sir H. In female form, of course. Cool, I am about to present 
society with a second Lady Courtley ; young — blushing eighteen ; 
lovely ! I have her portrait ; rich I I have her banker's account ; — an 
heiress, and a Venus ! 



ACT I.J LONDON ASSURANCE. 13 

Cool. Lady Conrtley could be none other. 

SiK H. Ha! ha! Cool, your manners are above your station. Apro- 
pos, I shall find no further use tor my brocade dressing-gown. 

Cool. I thank you, Sir Harcourt ; might I ask who the fortunate lady 
is? 

Siu H. Certainly; Miss Grace Harkavva}', the niece of my old friend, 
Max, 

Cool. Have you never seen the lady, sir 1 

Sir H. Never — that is, yes— eight years ago. Having been, as you 
know, on the continent for the last seven years, I have had no oppor- 
tunity of paying my devoirs. Our connection and bethrothal was a 
very extraordinary one. Her father's estates were contiguous to mine ; 
— being a penurious, miserly, ugly old scoundrel, he made a market of 
my indiscretion, and supplied my extravagance with large sums of 
money on mortgages, his great desire being to unite the two properties. 
About seven years ago he died — leaving Grace, a girl, to the guardian- 
sliip of her uncle, with this will: — if, on attaining the age of nineteen, 
she would consent to marry me, 1 should receive those deeds, and all 
his property, as her dowry. If she refused to comply with this condi- 
tion, they should revert to my heir, presumptive or apparent. She con- 
sents. 

Cool. Who would not 1 

Sir H. I consent to receive her £15,000. a year, (crosses to l.) 

Cool. Who would not 1 

Sir H. So prepare. Cool, prepare; but where is mv boy, where is 
Charles ? 

Cool. Why — oh, he is gone out. Sir Harcourt ; yes, gone out to take 
a walk. 

Sir H. Poor child ! A perfect child in heart — a sober, placid mind — 
the simplicity and verdure of boyhood, kept fresh and unsullied by any 
contact with society. Tell me. Cool, at what time was he in bed last 
night 1 

Cool. Half-past nine, Sir Harcourt. 

SiK H. Half-past nine ! Beautiful ! What an original idea ! Re- 
posing in cherub slumbers, while all around him teems with drinking 
and debauchery ! Primitive sweetness of nature ! no pilot-coated, 
bear-skinned* brawling ! 

Cool. Oh, Sir Harcourt ! 

Sir H. No cigar-smoking 

Cool. Faints at the smell of one. 

Sir H. No brandy and water bibbing 

Cool. Doesn't know the taste of anything stronger than barley- 
water. 

Sir H No night parading 

Cool. Never heard the clock strike twelve, except at noon. 

Sir H. In fact, he is my son, and became a gentleman by right of 
paternity — he inherited my manners. 

Enter Martin, l. 
Mar. Mr. Harkaway. 

Enter Max Harkaway, l. 

Max. Squire Harkaway, fellow, or Max Harkaway, another tinae. 

[Martin hoics and exit. 

* The peculiar style of costume worn, alike by swells, snobs, aud frequenters of 
"Evans's'' in 1841. 



14 liONDON ASSURANCK [aCT 1. 

Ah ! ha ! Sir Harcourt, I'm devilish glad to see you ! Gi' nie your fist — 
dang it, but I'm "lad to see you! Let lue see: six — seven years qt 
more, since we have met. How quickly they have flown ! 

Sir H. {throwing off Ids studied manner). Max, Max! give me your 
hand, old boy. (aside) Ah ! he is glad to see me; theie is no fawning 
pretence about that squeeze. Cool, you may retire. [Exit Cool, r. c. 

Max. Why, you are lnoUing quite rosy. 

Sir H. All, ah ! rosy ! Am I too florid 1 

Max. Not a bit; not a bit. 

Sir H. I thought so. (aside) Cool said I had put too much on. 

Max. How comes it, Courtley, you manage to retain your youth 1 
See, I'm as gray as an old badger, or a wild rabbit ; while you are — 
are as black as a young rook. 1 say, whose head grew your hair, eh 1 

Sir H. Permit me to remark, that all the beauties of my person are 
of home manufacture. Why should you be surprised at my youth ? I 
have scarcely, thrown off the giddiness of a very boy— elasticity of 
limb — buoyancy of soul ! Remark this position, (throws himself into 
an attitude) 1 held that attitude for ten minutes at Lady Acid's hist 
reunion, at the express desire of one of our first sculptors, while he 
was making a sketch of me for the Apollo. 

Max (aside). Making a butt of thee for their gibes. 

Sir H. Lady Sarah Sarc?,sm started up, and, pointing to my face, 
ejaculated, " Good gracious ! does not Sir Harcourt remind you of the 
countenance of Ajax, in the Pompeian portrait 1" 

Max. Ajax !— humbug I 

Sir H. You are complimentary. 

Max. I m a plj.in man. and always speak my mind. What's in a face 
or figure ? Does a Grecian nose entail a good temper ? Does a wasp- 
ish waist indicate a good heart, / Or, do oily perfumed locks neces- 
sarily thatch a well-furnished brain "? 

Sir H. It's an undeniable fact, plain people always praise the beau- 
ties of the mind. 

Max. Excuse the insinuation ; I had thought the fiAt Lady Courtley 
had surfeited you with beauty. 

Sir H. No ; she lived fourteen months with me, and then eloped with 
an intimate friend. Etiquette compelled \we to challenge the seducer; 
so I received satisfaction — and a bullet in my shoulder at the sauie 
time. However, I had the consolation of knowinii that he was the 
handsomest man of the age. She did not insult me by running away 
Avith a damned ill-looking scoundrel. 

Max. That, certainly, was flattering. 

Sn: H. I felt so, as I pocketed the ten thousand pounds damages 

Max. That must have been a great balm to your sore honor. 

Sill H. Jt was — Max, my honor would have died without it; for on 
that year the wrong horse won the Derby — by some mistake. It was 
one of the luckiest chances — a thing that does not happen twice in a 
man's life — the opportunity of getting rid of his wife and his debts at 
the same time. C 

Max. Tell the truth, Courtlej^ — Did you not feel a little frayed inB 
your delicacy — your honor, now y Eh ? - 

Sir H. Not a whit. Why should III married money, and I received 
it— virgin gold ! My delicacy and honor had nothing to do with it. 
The world pities the bereaved husband, when it should congratulate. 
No; the affair made a sensation, and I was the object. Besides, it is 
vulgar to make a parade of one's feelings, however acute they may be ; 
impenetrability of countenance is the sure sign of your highly-bred 
man of fashion. 



ACT I. ] LONDON ASSURANCE. 15 

Max. So a man must, therefore, lose his wife and his money with a 
smile — in fact, everything he possesses but his temper. 

Sir H. Exactly; and greet ruin with vive la. bagatelle! For ex- 
ample; your modish beauty never discomposes the shape of her fea- 
tures with convulsive laughter. A smile rewards the hoii mot, and also 
shows the whiteness of her teath. Slie never weeps impromptu— tears 
might destroy the economy of her cheek. Scenes are vulgar, hysterics 
obsolete ; she exhibits a calm, placid, impenetrable lake, whose surface 
is reflection, but of unfathomable depth — a statue, whose Hfe is hypo- 
thetical, and not Si prima facie fact. 

Max Well, give me the girl that will fly at youreyes in an argument, 
and stick to her point like a fox to his own tail. 

Sir H. But etiquette, Max ! remember etiquette ! 

Max. Damn etiquette ! I have seen a man who thought it sacrilege 
to eat fish with a knife, that would not scruple to rise up and rob his 
brother of his birth-right in a gambling-house. Your thorough-bred, 
well-blooded Jieart will seldom kick over the traces of good feeling. 
That's my opinion, and I don't care who knows it. 

Sir H. Pardon me — etiquette is the pulse of society, by regulating 
which the body politic is retained in health. I consider myself one of 
the faculty in the art. 

Max, Well, well ; you are a living libel upon common sense, for you 
are old enough to know belter. 

Sir H. Old enough ! What do you mean ? Old ! I still retain all 
my Httle juvenile indiscretions, which your niece's beauties must teach 
me to discard. I have not sown my wild oats yet. 

Max. Time you did, at sixty-three. 

Sir H. Sixty-three ! Good Heavens ! — forty, *poo my life 1 forty, 
next March. 

Max. Why, you are older than I am. 

Sir H. Oh ! you are old enough to be my father. 

Max. Well, if I am, I am ; that's etiquette, 1 suppose. Poor Grace! 
how often have I pitied her fate ! That a young and beautiful creature 
should be driven into wretched splendor, or.miserable poverty! 

Sir H. Wretched I wherefore % Lady Courtley wretched ! Im- 
possible ! 

Max. Will she not be compelled to marry you, whether she likes you 
or not '? — a choice between you and })Overty. (aside) And hang me if 
it isn't a tie ! But why do you not introduce your son Charles to me 1 
I have not seen him since he was a child. You would never permit him 
to accept any of my invitations to spend his vacation at Oak Hall — of 
course, we shall have the pleasure of his company now. 

Sib H. He is not fit to enter society yet. He is a studious, sober 
boy. 

Max. Boj* ! Why, he's five-and-twenty. 

Sir H. Good gracious ! Max — you will permit me to know my own 
son's age — he is not twenty? 

Max. I'm dumb. 

Sir H. You will excuse me while I indulge in the process of dress- 
ing. Cool ! 

Enter Cool, r. 

Prepare my toilet. [Exit Cool. l. 

That is a ceremony which, with me, supersedes all others. I consider 
it a duty which every gentleman owes to society, lo rei)(ler himself as 
agreeable an object as possible; and the least compliment a mortal can 
pay to nature, when she honors him by bestowing extra care in the 



16 LONDON ASSURANCE. [aCT I. 

manufacture of liis person, is to display her taste to the best possible 
advantage ; and so, au revoir. [Exit, l. c. 

Max. Tiiat's a good sou. — lie has his faults, and who has not? Forty 
years of age! Oh, monstrous ! — but he does look uncoumionly young 
for sixty, spite of his foreign locks and complexion. 

Enter Dazzle, r. 

Daz. Who's my friend with the stick and gaiters, I wonder — one of 
the family— the governor, may be? 

Max. Who's this y Oh, Charles — is that you my boy 1 How are you 1 
{aside) This is the hoy. 

Daz. He knows me — he is too respectable for a bailiff, {aloud) How- 
are you ? 

Max. Your father has just left me. 

Daz. (aside) The devil he has ! He has been dead these ten years. 
Oh! I see, he thinks I'm young Courtley. (aloud) The honor you would 
confer upon me, 1 must unwillingly disclaim — I am not Mr, Courtley, 

Max. I beg pardon — a friend, I suppose? 

Daz Oh, a most intimate friend — a friend of years — distantly related 
to the family — one of my ancestors married one of his. (aside) Adam 
and Eve. 

Max. Are you on a visit here ? 

Daz. Yes ; oh ! yes. (aside) Rather a short one, I'm afraid. 

Max (aside). This appears a dashing kind of fellow — as he is a 
friend of Sir Harcourt's, I'll invite him to the wedding, (aloud) Sir, if 
you are not otherwise engaged, I shall feel honored by your company 
Pi my house, Oak Hall, Gloucestershire. 

Daz, Your name is 

IMax. Harkaway— Max Harkaway. 

Daz, Harkaway — let me see — 1 ought to be related to the Harkaways, 
somehow. 

Max, a wedding is about to come off— will you take a part on the 
occasion ? 

Daz. With pleasure ! any part but that of the husband. 

Max, Have you any previous engagement I 

Daz. I was thinking — eh? why, let me see, (aside) Promised to 
meet my tailor and his account to-morrow ; however, Til postpone that. 
[aloud) Have you good shooting ? 

Max. Shooting ! Why, there's no shooting at this time of the year. 

Daz Oh ! I'm in no hurry — I can wait till the season, of course, I 
was only speaking precautionally — you have good shooting 1 

Max. The best in the country, 

Daz. Make yourself comfortable ! — Say no more — I'm your man — 
wait till you see how I'll murder your preserves. 

Max. Do you huntl 

Daz. Pardon me — but will you repeat that 1 (aside) Delicious and 
expensive idea! 

Max. You ride 1 

Daz Anything ! Everything ! From a blood to a broomsticlc. 
Only catch me a flash of lightning, and let me get on the back of it, and 
dam'me if I wouldn't astonish the elements. 

Max. Ha! ha! 

Daz. I'd put a girdle round about the earth in very considerably less 
than forty minutes. 

Max. Ah! ha ! We'll show old Fiddlestrings how to spend the day. 
He imagines that Nature, at the earnest request of Fashion, made sum- 



ACT I.J LONDON ASSUKANCE. 17 

iiier days long for him to saunter in the Park, and winter nights that 
lie might have good tune to get cleared out at hazard or at whist. Give 
nie the yelping of a pack of liounds before the shuffling of a pack of 
cards. What state can matcli the chase in full cry, each vieing with his 
fellows which siiail be most happy 1 A thousand deaths fly by unheed- 
ed in that one hour's life of ecslacy. Time is outrun, and I^ature 
seems to grudge our bliss by making the day so short. 

Daz. No, for there rises up the idol of my great adoration. 

Max, Who's that 1 

Daz. The bottle — that lends a lustre to the soul ! — When the world 
puts on its night-cap, and extinguishes the sun — then comes the bottle ! 
Oh, mighty wine ! don't ask me to apostrophize. Wine and love are 
the only two indescribable things in nature ; but I prefer the wine, be- 
cause its consequences are not entailed, and are more easily got rid of. 

Max. How so I 

D \z. Love ends in matrimony, wine in soda water. 

Maz. Well, 1 can promise you as fine a bottle as ever was cracked. 

Daz. Never mind the bottle, give me the wine. Say no more ; but, 
when I arrive, just shake one of my hands, and put the key of the cel- 
lar into the other, and if I don't make myself intimately acquainted with 
its internal organization — well, I say nothing — time will show. 

Max. I foresee some happy days. 

Daz. And I some glorious nights. 

Max. It mustn't be a flying visit. 

Daz. I despise the word — I'll stop a month with you. 

Max. Or a year or two. 

Daz. I'll live and die with you ! 

Max. Ha ! ha ! Kemember Max Harkaway, Oak Hall, Gloucester- 
shire. 

Daz. I'll remember — fare ye well. (Max is going) '^ say, holloa!— 
Tallyho-o-o-o ! 

Max. Yoicks ! — Tallyhoa-o-o-o ! ' [Exit, l. 

D.\z. There I am — quartered for a couple of years, at the least. The 
old boy wants somebody to ride his horses, shoot his game, and keep a 
restraint on the morals of the parish : I'm eligible. What a lucky 
accident to meet Young Courtley last night ! Who could have thought 
it ] Yesterday, I could not make certain of a dinner, except at my own 
proper peril ; to-day I would flirt with a banquet. 

Enter Young Courtley, r. 

Young C. What infernal row was that ? Why, (seeing Dazzle) are 
you here still ? 

Daz. Yes. Ain't you delighted ? I'll ring, and send the servant for 
my lusgage. 

Young C. The devil you will ! Why, you don't mean to say yot 
seriously intend to take up a permanent residence here 1 {rings the 
bell.) 

Daz Now, that's a most inhospitable insinuation. 

Young C. Might I ask your name ? 

Daz. With a deal of pleasure — Richard Dazzle, late of the Unattached 
Volunteers, vulgarly entitled the Dirty Buffs. 

Enter IMartin, r. 

Young C. Then, Mr. Richard Dazzle, I have the honor of wishing you 
X very good morning. Martin, show this gentleman the door. 



18 LONDON ASSUKANCE. [aCT I. 

Daz. If he does, I'll kick Martin out of it. No offence. 

[Exit Martin, l. 
Now, sir, permit me to place a dioramic view of your conduct betore 
j^ou. After bringing you safely home this morning — after indulgently 
waiting, whenever you took a passing fancy to a knocker or bell-pull — 
after conducting a retreat that would liave reflected honor on Napoleon — 
you would kick me into the street, like a mangy cur; and that's what 
you call gratitude. Now, to show you how superior I am to petty 
malice, I give you an unlimited invitation to my house — my country 
house — to remain as long as you please. 

YowNG C. Your house ! 

Daz. Oak Hall, Gloucestershire — fine old place ! — for further particu- 
lars see road book — that is, it nominally belongs to my old friend and 
relation, Max Harkaway ; but Fm privileged. Capital old fellow — say, 
shall we be honored 1 

Young C. Sir, permit me to hesitate a moment, {aside) Let me see ; 

go back to < 
begin to dun- 

Eiiter Cool, r. 

I hear thunder; here is shelter ready for me. 

Cool. Oh, Mr. Charles, Mr. Solomon Isaacs is in the hall, and swears 
he will remain till he has arrested you ! 

Young C. Does he !— sorry he is so obstinate — take him my compli- 
ments, and I will bet him five to one he will not. 

Daz. Double or quits, with my kind regards. 

Cool. But, sir, he has discovered the house in Curzon street ; he says 
he is aware the furniture at least belongs to you, and he will put a man 
in immediately. 

You.xG C. That's awkward — what's to be done? 

Daz. Ask him whether he couldn't make it a woman. 

Young O. I must trust that to fate. 

Daz. I will give you my acceptance, if it will be of any use to you — 
it is of none to me. 

Young C. No, sir; but in reply to your most generous and kind in- 
vitation, if you be in earnest, I shall feel delighted to accept it. 

Daz. Certainly. 

Young C. Then off we go — through the stables — down the Mews, and 
so slip through my friend's fingers. 

Daz. But, stay, you must do the polite ; say farewell to him before 
you part. Damn it, don't cut him ! 

Young C. You jest! 

Daz. Here, lend me a card. (Courtley gives him one) Now, then, 
(writes) " Our respects to Mr. Isaacs— sorry to have been prevented 
from seeing him." Ha ! ha ! 

Young C. Ha! ha! 

Daz. We'll send him up some game. 

Young C. (to Cool). Don't let my father see him. 

[Exeunt Young Courtley and Dazzle, r. 

Cool. What's this 1 " Mr. Charles Courtley, P. P. C, returns thanks 
for obliging inquiries." [Exit, l. 

CURTAIN. 



ACT 11.] I-ONDON ASSUiiANCE. ' 19 



ACT ir. 

SCENE. — TJie lawn before Oak Hall, a fine Elizabethan mansion ; a 
drawing-room is seen through large French windows at the back. 
Statues, urns and gar-den chairs about the stage. 

Enter Pert and James, l. 

Pert. James, Miss Grace desires me to request that you will watch 
at the avenue and let her know when the squire s carriage's seen on the 
London road. 

James. I will go to the lodge. [Exit, l. 

Pert. How I do long to see what kind of a man Sir Harcourt Courtley 
is ! They say he is sixty ; so he must bo old, and consequently ugly. 
If I was Miss Grace, I would rather give up all my fortune and marry 
the man I liked, than go to church with a stuffed eel-skin. But taste is 
everything — she doesn't seem to care whether he is sixty or sixteen ; 
jokes at love ; prepares for matrimony as she would for dinner ; says it 
is a necessary evil, and what can't be cured must be endured. Now, I 
say this is against all nature ; and she is either no woman, or a deeper 
one than I am, if she prefers an old man to a youns one. Here she 
comes ! looking as cheerfully as if she was going to marry Mr. Jenks ! 
My Mr. Jenks ! whom nobody wont' lead to the halter till I have that 
honor. 

Enter Grace, from drawing-room, l. 

Grace. Well, Pert! any signs of the squire yet? 

Pert. No, Miss Grace ; but James has gone to watch the road. 

Grace. In my uncle's letter he mentions a Mr. Dazzle, whom he has 
invited; so you must prepare a room for him. He is some friend of 
my husband that is to be, and my uncle seems to have taken an extra- 
ordinary predilection for him. Apropos ! I must not forget to have a 
bouquet for the dear old man when lie arrives. 

Pert. The dear old man ! Du you mean Sir Harcourt? 

GuACE. La, no! my uncle of course. {2)lucking flowers) What do I 
care for oir Harcourt Courtley ? {crosses r.) 

Pert. Isn't it odd. Miss, you have never seen your intended, though 
it has been so long since you were betrothed ] 

Grace. Not at all ; marriage matters are conducted now-a-days, 
in a most mercantile manner ; consequently, a previous acquaintance is 
by no means indispensable. Besides, my prescribed husband has been 
upon the continent for the benefit of his — property ! They say a 
southern climate is a great restorer of consumptive estates. 

Pert. Well, Miss, for my own part, I should like to have a good look 
at my barga'n before I paid for it ; 'specially when one's life is the 
price of the article. But why, ma'am, do you consent to marry in this 
blind-man's-buff sort of manner? What would you think if he were 
not quite so old ? 

Grace. I should think he was a little 5'ounger. 

Pert. I should like him all the better. 

Grace. That wouldn't I. A young husband might expect affection 
and nonsense, which 'twould be deceit in me to render ; nor would he 
permit me to remain with my uncle. Sir Harcourt takes me with the 
incumbrances on his estate, and I shall beg to be left among the rest of 
the live stock. 



20 LONDON ASSUKANCE. [aCT U. 

Pert. Ah, Miss! but some day you might chance to stumble over 
tlie man — what could you do then 1 

Grace. Do! beg the man's pardon, and request the man to pick me 
up again. 

Pert. Ah ! yon were never in love, Miss. 

Grace. 1 never was, nor will be, till I am tired of myself and com- 
mon sense. Love is a pleasant scape-goat for a little epidemic mad- 
ness. I must have been inoculated in my infancy, for the infection 
passes over poor me in contempi. 

Enter James, l. 

James. Two gentlemen, Miss Grace, have just alighted. 

Grace. Very well, James. [ £!riY James, L. 

Love is pictured as a boy ; in another century they will be wiser, and 
paint him as a fool, with cap and bells, without a thought above the 
jingling of his own folly. Now, Pert, remember this as a maxim — A 
woman is always in love with one of two things. 

Pert. What are they, Miss ? 

Grace. A man, or hei^self — and I know which is the most profitable. 

{Exit, L. 

Pert. I wonder what my Jenks would say, if I was to ask him. La ! 
here comes Mr. Meddle, his rival, contemporary solicitor, as he calls 
him — a nasty, prying, ugl\' wretch — what brings him here 1 He comes 
puffed with some news, {retires up r.) 

Enter Meddle, tcith newspaper, l. 

Med. I have secured the only newspaper in the village — my charac- 
ter, as an attorney-at-law, depended on the monopoly of its information. 
I took it up by chance, when this paragraph met my astonished view : 
{reads) " We understand that the contract of marriage so long in abey- 
ance on account of the lady's minority, is about to be celebrated at 
Oak Hall, Gloucestershire, the well-known and magnificent mansion of 
Muximilian Harkaway, Esq., between Sir Havcourt Courtley, baronet, 
of fashionable celebrity, and Miss Grace Harkaway, niece to the said 
Mr. Harkaway. The preparations are proceeding in the good old Eng- 
lish style." Is it possible ! I seldom swear, except in a witness box, 
but, damme, had it been known in the villaae, my reputation would 
have been lost; my voice in the parlor of the Red Lion mute, and Jenks, 
a fellow who calls himself a lawyer, without more capability than a 
broomstick, and as much impudence as a young barrister after getting 
a verdict by mistake; why, he would actually have taken the Reverend 
Mr. Spout by the button, which is now my sole privilege, (sees Pert) 
Ah ! here is Mrs Pert ; couldn't have hit upon a better person. I'll 
cross-examme her— lady's maid to Miss Grace— confidential purloiner 
of second-hand silk— a nisi prius of her mistress— Ah ! sits on the 
woolsack in the pat)try. and dictates the laws of kitchen etiquette. 
(Pert coynes forward) Ah! Mrs. Pert, good-morninL^ ; MMinit me to 
s;iy — and my word as a legal character is not undnlv considered — I ven- 
ture t-) affirm, that v«>u look a— quite like the— a — — 

Pkrt. Law ' Mr. Meddle. 

Med. Exactly like the law. 

Pert. Ha ! indeed ; complimentary, I confess ; like the law ; tedious, 
prosy, made up of musty paper. You sha'u't have a long suit of me. 
Good-morning, (going.) 



ACrn.] liONDON ASSURANCE. 21 

Med. Stay, Mrs. Pert; don't calumniate my calling, or disseminate 
vulgar prejudices. 

Peut. Vulgar! you talk of vulgarity to me ! you, whose sole employ- 
ment is to sneak about like a pig, snouting out the dust-hole of society, 
and feeding upon the bad ends of vice ! you, who live upon the \/orld's 
iniquity; you miserable specimen of a bad six-and-eightpence ! 

Med. But, Mrs. Pert 

Pekt. Don't but me, sir; I won't be butted by any such low fellovv. 

Med. This is slander ; an action will lie. 

Pekt. Let it lie ; lying is your trade. I'll tell you what, Mr. Meddle ; 
if I had my will, I would soon put a check to your prying propensities. 
Pd treat you as tlie farmers do inquisitive hogs. 

Med. How 1 

Pert. I would ring your nose. [Exit, l. 

Med. Not much information elicited from that witness. Jenks is at 
the bottom of this. I have very little hesitation in saying, Jenks is a 
libellous rascal ; I heard reports that he was undermining my character 
here, through Mrs. Pert. Now I'm certain of it. Assault is expen- 
sive ; but I certainly will put by a small weekly stipendiuni, until I can 
afford to kick Jenks. 

D.\z. {outside). Come along ; this way ! 

Med. Ah ! whom have we here ? Visitors ; I'll address them. 

Elder Dazzle, l. 

Daz. Who's this, I wonder; one of the family 1 I must know him. 
{to Meddle) Ah ! h^w are yel 

Med. Quite well. J .st arrived? — ah! — um ! Might I request the 
honor of knowing whom I address ? 

Daz. Richard Dazzle, Esquire ; and you 

Med. Mark Meddle, attorney-at-law. 

Enter Yodng Courtley, l. 

Daz. What detained you ? 

Young C. My dear fellow, I have just seen such a. woman 

Daz. {aside). Hush ! {aloud) Permit me to introduce you to my very 
old friend, Meddle. He's a capital fellow; know him. 

Med. I feel honored. Who is your friend 1 

Daz. Oh, hel What, my friend ^ Oh! Augustus Hamilton. 

Young C How d'ye do 1 {looking off) There she is again 1 

Med {looking off). Why, that is Miss Grace. 

Daz. Of course, Grace. 

Young C. I'll go and introduce myself. (Dazzle stops Jiim.) 

Daz. {aside). What are you about ? would you insult ray old friend 
Puddle by running away ? {aloud) I say, Puddle, just show my friend 
the lions, while I say how d'ye do to my young friend Grace, {aside) 
Cultivate his acquaintance. 

[Exit, L. YousG Courtley looks after 7um. 

Med. Mr. Hamilton, might I take the liberty? 

Young C. {looking off^. Confound the fellow ! 

Med. Sir, what did you remark 1 

Young C. She's gone! Oh, are you here still, Mi. Thingomerry 
Pudd'e 1 

Med. Meddle, sir, Meddle, in the list of attorneys. 

Young C. Well, Muddle, or Puddle, -or whoever you are, you are a 
bore. 



22 LONDON ASSURANCE. [aCT U. 

Med. (aside). How excessively odd ! Mrs. Pert said I was a pig; 
now I'm a boar ! I wonder what they'll make of me next. 

Young C. Mr. Thingamy, will you take a word of advice 1 

Med. Feel honored. 

Young C. Get out. 

Med. Do you mean to— I don't understand. 

Young C. Delighted to quicken your apprehension. You are an ass, 
Puddle. 

Med. Ha ! ha ! another quadruped ! Yes ; beautiful, (aside) I 
wish he'd call me something libellous ; but that would be too much to 
expect, (aloud) Anything else 1 

You.NG C. Some miserable pettifogging scoundrel ! 

Med. Good ! ha ! ha ! 

Young C. What do you mean by laughing at vael 

Med. Ha ! ha ! ha ! excellent ! delicious ! 

Young C. Mr. , are you ambitious of a kicking 1 

Med. Very, very — Go on— kick — go on. 

Young C. (looking off). Here she comes ! I'll speak to her. 

Med. But, sir — sir 

Y«)UNG C. Oh, go to the devil ! [Rims off, l. 

Med. There, there's a chance lost — gone! I have no hesitation in 
saying that, in another minute, I should have been kicked ; literally 
kicked — a legal luxury. Costs, damages, and actions rose up like sky- 
rockets in my aspiring soul, with golden tails reaching to the infinity 
of my hopes, (lookiitg) They are coming this way ; Mr. Hamilton in 
close conversation with Lady Courtley that is to be. Crini. Con. Court- 
ley versus Hamilton — damage, problematical — Meddle, chief witness 
for plaintiff — guinea a-day — professional man ! I'll take down their con- 
versaiion verbatim. [Retires behind a hush., b. 

Enter Grace, followed hy Young Courtlet> l. 

Grace. Perhaps you would follow you friend into the dining-room ; 
refreshment, after your long journey, must be requisite. 

Young C. Pardon me. madam ; but the lovely garden and the loveli- 
ness before me, is better refreshment than I could procure in any din- 
ing-room. 

Grace. Ha ! Your company and compliments arrive together. 

Young C. I trust that passing remark will not spoil so welcome an 
introduction as this by offending you. 

Grace. I am not certain that anything you could say would offend 
me. 

Young C. I never meant 

Grace. I thought not. In turn, pardon me, when I request you will 
commence your visit with this piece of information : — I consider com- 
plitnents impertinent, and sweetmeat language fulsome. 

Young C. I would condemn my tongue to a Pythagorean silence, if 
I thought it could attempt to flatter. 

Grace. It strikes me, sir, that you are a stray bee from the hive of 
fashion ; if so, reserve your honey for its proper cell. A truce to com- 
pliments. — You have just arrived /7-(?m toicn, I apprehend. 

Young C. This moment I left mighty London, under the fever of a 
full season, groaning with the noisy pulse of wealth and the giddy 
whirling brain of fashion. Enchanting, busy London ! how have i pre- 
vailed on myself to desert you ! Next week the new ballet comes out 
— the week after comes Ascot. Oh ! 

Grace. How agonizing must be the reflection ! 



ACT II.] LONDON ASSURANCE. 23 

Young C. Torture ! Can you inform me how you manage to avoid 
suicide here ? If tliere was but an opera, even, within twenty miles ! 
We couldn't get up a rustic ballet among the village girls V No ; — 
ah! 

Gra.ce. I am afraid you would find that difficult. How T contrive to 
support life 1 don't know — it is wonderful — but I have not precisely 
contemplated suicide yet, nor do I miss tiie opera. 
Young C. How can you manage to kill time 1 

Grace. I can't. Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills 
them. I liave many employments — this week I devote to studj' and 
various amusements — next week to being married — the following week 
to repentance, perhaps. 
Young C. Married ! 

Grace. You seem surprised ; I believe it is of frequent occurrence 
in the metropolis — is it noti 

Young C. Might I ask to whom 1 

Grace. A gentleman who has been strongly recommended to me for 
the situation of husband. 

Young C. What an extraordinary match ! Would you not consider 
it advisable to see him, previous to incurring the consequences of such 
an act 1 

Grace. You must be aware that fashion says otherwise. The gentle- 
man swears eternal devotion to the lady's fortune, and the lady swears 
she will outlive him still. My lord's horses and my lady's diamonds 
shine through a few seasons, until a seat in Pai-liament, or the conti- 
nent stares them in the face ; then, when thrown upon each other for 
resources of comfort, they begin to quarrel about the original condi- 
tions of the sale. 

Young C. Sale ! No ! that would be degrading civilization into 
Turkish barbarity. 

Grace. Worse, sir, a great deal worse ; for there at least they do not 
attempt concealment of the barter; but here, every London ball-room 
is a marriage mart — young ladies are trotted out, while the mother, 
father, or chaperone plays auctioneer, and knocks them down to the 
highest bidder — young men are ticketed up with fortunes on their backs 
— and Love, turned into a dapper shopman, descants on the excellent 
qualities of the material. 

Young C. Oh ! that such a custom could have ever emanated from 
the healthy soil of an English heart 1 

Grace. No; it never did — like most of our literary dandyisms and 
dandy literature, it was borrowed from the French. 
Young C. You seem to laugh at love. 

Grace. Love ! why, the very word is a breathing satire upon man's 
reason — a mania, indigenous to humanity — nature's jester, \yho plays 
off tricks upon the world, and trips up common sense. When I'm in 
love, I'll write an almanac, for the very lack of wit — prognosticate the 
sighing season— when to beware of tears — about this time expect 
matrimony to be prevalent ! Ha ! ha ! Why should I lay out my life 
in love's bonds upon the bare security of a man's word '? 

Belter James, l. 

James. The squire, madam, has just arrived, and another gentleman 
with him. 

Grace (aside). My intended, I suppose. [Exit James, l. 

Young C. I perceive you are one of the railers against what is termed 
the follies of high life. 



24: LONDON ASSURANCE. [aCT H. 

Grace. No, not particularly; I deprecate all folly. By what pre- 
rogative can the wesL-end mint issue absurdity, which, if coined in the 
east, would be voted vulgar'? 

Young C. By a sovereign right — because it has Fashion's head upon 
its side, and that stamps it current. 

Grace. Poor Fashion, for how many sins hast thou to answer ! The 
gambler pawns his birth-right for fashion — the roue steals his friend's 
wife for fashion — each abandons himself to the storm of impulse, call- 
ing it the breeze ot fashion. 

Young C. Is this idol of the world so radically vicious 1 

Grace. No ; the root is well enough, as the body was, until it had 
outgrown its native soil; but now, like a mighty giant lying over Eu- 
rope, it pillows its head in Italy, its heart in France, leaving the heels 
alone its sole support for England. 

Young C. Pardon me, madam, you wrong yourself to rail against 
your own inheritance — the kingdom to which loveliness and wit attest 
your title. 

Grace. A mighty realm, forsooth — with milliners for ministers, a cabi- 
net of coxcombs, envy for my homage, ruin for my revenue— ^ny right 
of rule depending on the shape of a bonnet or the set of a pelisse, with 
the next grand noodle as my heir-a[>parent. Mr. Hamilton, when I am 
crowned, I shall feel happy to abdicate in your favor. 

[Curtesy and exit, l. 

Young C. What did she mean by that 1 Damme if I can understand 
her — she is evidently not used to society. Ha ! — takes every word I say 
for infallible truth — requires the solution of a compliment, as if it were 
a problem in Euclid. She .'«aid she was about to marry, but I rather 
imagine she was in jest. 'Pon my life, [ feel very queer at the contem- 
plation of such an idea— I'll follow her. (Meddle comes doicn) Oh! 
perhaps this booby can inform me something about her. (Meddle 
makes signs at him) What the devil is he at ? 

Med. It won't do — no — ah ! um — it's not to be done. 

Young C. What do you mean? 

Med. (2)oints after Grace). Counsel retained — cause to come off. 

Young C. Cause to come off! 

Med. Miss Grace is about to be married. 

Young C. Is it possible 1 

Med. Certainly. If I have the drawing out of the deeds 

Young C. To whom 1 

Med. Ha ! hem ! Oh, yes ! I dare say — information being scarce in 
the market, I hope to make mine valuable. 

Young C. Married ! married ! 

Med. Now I shall have another chance. 

Young C. I'll run and ascertain the truth of this from Dazzle. 

[Exit, L. 

Med. It's of no use; he either dare not kick me, or he can't afford 
it — in either case, he is beneath ray notice. Ah! who comes here? — 
can it be Sir Harcourt Courtley himself 7 It can be no other. 

Enter Cool, l. 

Sir, I have the honor to bid you welcome to Oak Hall and the village 
of Oldborough, 

Cool (aside). Excessively polite, (aloud) Sir, thank you 

Med. The tovvnsnip contains two thousand inhabitants. 

Cool. Does it ? I am delighted to hear it. 

Med. (aside). I can charge him for that — ahem — six and eightpence 



ACT II.] LONDON ASSURANCE. 25 

is not much — but it is a beginning, {aloud) If you will permit me, I can 
inform you of the different com modi lies for which it is famous. 

Cool. Much obliged — but here comes Sir Harcourt Courtley, my 
master, and Mr. Harkaway — any other time I shall feel delighted. 

Med. Oh ! {aside) Mistpok the man for the master, {retires up r.) 

Enter Max and Sir Harcourt, l. 

Max. Here we are at last. Now give ye welcome to Oak Hall, Sir 
Harcourt, heartilj" ! 

Sir H. {languidly). Cool, assist me. (Cool takes off Ids cloak and 
gloves ; gives Mm icJiite gloves and Jumd kerchief.) 

Max Why, you require unpacking as carefully as my best bin of 
port. Well, now you are decanted, tell me what did you think of my 
park as we came along "? 

Sir H. That it would never come to an end. You said it M'as only a 
stone's throw from your infernal lodge to the house ; why, it's ten 
miles, at least. 

Max. I'll do it in ten minutes any day. 

Sir H. Yes, in a steam carriage. Cool, perfume my handkerchief. 

Max. Don't do it. Don't ! perfume in the country ! why, it's high 
treason in the very face of Nature; 'lis introducing the robbed to the 
robber. Here are the sweets from which your fulsome essences are 
pilfered, and labelled with their names ; don't insult them, too. (Meo- 
DLE comes down, c.) 

Sir H. {to Meddle). Oh ! cull me a bouquet, my man ! 

Max {turning). Ah, Meddle ! how are you 1 This is Lawyer Med- 
dle. 

Sir H. Oh ! I took him for one of your people. 

Med. Ah ! naturally — um — Sir Harcourt Courtley, I have the honor 
to congratulate — happy occasion approaches. Ahem ! I hare no hesi- 
tation in saying this vct^ happy occasion approaches. 

Sir H. Cool, is the conversation addressed towards me 1 

Cool. I believe so, Sir Harcourt. 

Med. Oh, certainly ! I was complimenting you. 

Sir H. Sir, you are very good ; the honor is undeserved ; but I am 
only in the habit of receiving compliments from the fair sex. Men's 
admiration is so damnably insipid. 

Med. I had hoped to make a unit on that occasion. 

Sir H. Yes, and you hoped to put an infernal number of cyphers 
after your unit on that and any other occasion. 

Med. Ha ! ha ! very good. Why, I did hope to have the honor of 
drawing out the deeds ; for, whatever Jenks may say to the contrary, I 
have no hesitation in saying 

Sir H. {putting him aside. To Max). If the future Lady Courtley 
be visible at so unfashionable an hour as this, I shall beg to be intro- 
duced. 

Max. Visible! Ever since six this morning, I'll warrant ye. Two 
to one she is at dinner. 

Sir H. Dinner ! Is it possible ? ' Lady Courtley dine at half-past one 
p. M. ? 

Med. I rather prefer that hour to peck a little my 

5SiR H. Dear me ! who was addressing you 1 

Med. Oh ! 1 beg pardon. 

Max. Here, James 1 {calling.) 

Enter James, l. 



26 LONDON ASSURANCE. [aCT II. 

Tell Miss Grace to come here directly. [Exit James, l. 

Now i)repare, Courtley, for, though I say it, she is — with the exception 
of my bay mare, Kitty — the haiulsomest tiling in the country. Consid- 
ering she is a biped, she is a wonder ! Full of blood, sound wind and 
limb, plenty of bone, sweet coat, in fine condition, with a thorough-bred 
step, as dainty as a i)et greyhound. 

Sir H. Dannne, don't compare her to a horse ! 

Max. Well, I wouldn't, but she's almost as fine a creature — close 
similarities. 

Med. Oh, very fine creature ! Close similarity, amounting to iden- 
tity. 

Sir H. Good gracious, sir ! What can a lawyer know about women ? 

Med. Everything. J'lie consistorial court is a fine study of the char- 
acter, and I have no hesitation in saying that I have examined more 
women than Jenks, or 

SirH. Oh, d—n Jenks! 

Med. Sir, thank you. D — n him again, sir, d — n him again! 

Enter Grace, l. 

Grace. My dear uncle! 

Max. Ah, Grace, you little jade, come here. 

Sir H. {eyeing her through his glass). Oh, dear ! she is a rural Venus ! 
I'm astonished and delighted. 

Max. Won't you kiss your old uncle 7 {kisses her.) 

SirH. {draws an agonizing face). Oh! — ah — urn! — NHmporte! — 
my privilege in embryo — hem ! It's very tantalizing, though. 

Max. You are not glad to see me, you are not. {kissing her again.) 

Sir H. Oh ; no, no ! {aside) that is too much. I shall do soujething 
horrible presently if this goes on. {atoud) I should be sorry to curtail 
any little ebullition of aftection ; but — ahem ! May I be permitted 1 

Max.. Of course you may. There, Grace, is Sir Harcourt, your hus- 
band that will be. Go to him, girl. 

Sir H. Permit me to do homage to the charms, the presence of which 
have placed me in sight of Paradise. 

[Sir Harcourt and Grace retire. 

Enter Dazzle, l. 

Daz. Ah ! old fellow, how are you '? 

Max. I'm glad to see you. Are you comfortably quartered yet, eh 1 
Daz. Splendidly quartered! What a place you've got here ! Here, 
Hamilton. 

Enter Young Courtlev, 

Permit me to introduce my friend, Augustus Hamilton. Capital fellow 1 
drinks like a sieve, and rides like a thunder-storm. 

Max. Sir, I'm devilish glad to see you. Here, Sir Harcourt, permit 
me to introduce to yon 

Young C. The devil ! 

Daz. {aside). What's the matter"? 

Young C. [aside). Why, that is my governor, by Jupiter ! 

Daz {aside). What, old Whiskers! you don't say that? 

Young C. {aside). It is ; what's to be done now? 

Max Mr. Hamilton, Sir Harcourt Courtley— Sir Harcourt Courtley, 
Mr. Hamilton. 



ACT II.] LONDON ASSURANCE. 27 

Sir H. Hamilton." Good gracious ! God bless me! Why, Charles, 
is it i)Oh;sil)le ? — why, Max, that's my son ! 

Young C. [aside). What shall I do 1 

Max. Your son ':' 

GuACE. Your son, Sir Harcourt ! have you a son as old as that gen- 
tleman ! 

Sir H. No — that is — a yes, — not by twenty years — a — Charles, why 
don't you answer me, sir? 

Young C. (aside to Dazzle). "What shall I say ? 

Daz. (aside). Deny your identity. 

YouxG C. (aside). Capital! [aloud) What's the matter, sir ? 

Slit II. How came you down here, sir'? 

YouxG C. By one of Newman's best fours — in twelve hours and a 
quarter. 

Sir H. Isn't your name Charles Courtley 1 

Young C. Not to my knowledge. 

Sir H. Do you mean to say that you are usually called Augustus 
Hamilton'? 

Young C. Lamentable fact — and quite correct. 

Sir H. Cool, is that my son '? 

Cool. No, sir — it is not Mr. Charles — but it is very like him. 

Max. I cannot understand all this, (goes up.) 

Grace, (aside). I think I can. 

Daz. (aside to Young C). Give him a touch of the indisnant. 

Young C. Allow me to say. Sir What-d'ye-call-'em Hartly 

Sir H. Hartly, sir ! Courtley, sir ! Courtley ! 

Young C. Well, Hartly, or Court-heart, or whatever your name may 
be, I say your conduct is — a— a — , and were it not for the presence of 
this lady, I should feel inclined — to — to 

Sir H. No, no, that can't be my son, — he never would address me in 
that way. 

Max (coming down). What is all this 1 

Sir H. Sir, your likeness to my son Charles is so astonishing, that it, 
for a moment — the equilibrium of my etiquette — 'pon my life, i — permit 
me to request your pardon. 

Med. Sir Harcourt, don't apologize, don't — bring an action. I'm 
witness. 

Sir H. Some one take this man away. 

Enter James, l. 

James. Luncheon is on the table, sir. 

Sir H. Miss Harkaway, I never swore before a lady in my life — ex- 
cept when I promised to love and cherish the late Lady Courtley, which 
1 took care to preface with an apology, — I was compelled tothe cere- 
mony, and consequently not answerable for the language — but to that 
gentleman's identity I would have pledged — my hair. 

Grace (aside). If that security were called for, I suspect the an- 
swer would be — no effects. [Exuent Sir Harcourt and Grace, l. 

Med. (to Max). I have something very particular to communicate. 

Max. Can't listen at present. [Exit, l. 

Med. (to Dazzle and Young C). I can afford you information, which 



I- 



Daz. Oh, don't bother ! ) rw^^.,^-¥ ^ 

Young C. Go to the devil ! \ [Exeunt, l. 



Med. Now, I have no hesitation in saying that is the height of ingrat- 
itude. — Oh — Mr. Cool — can you oblige me '? {presents his account.) , 



28 LONDON ASSURANCE, |aCT UL 

Cool. Wliy, what is all this 1 

Med. Small account ver,ms you — to giving information concerning 
the last census of the population of Oldborough and vicinity, six and 
eightpence. 

Cool. Oh, you mean to make me pay for this, do you ? 

Med. Unconditionally. 

Cool. Well, I have no objection — the charge is fair — but remember, 
I am a servant on board wages, — will you throw in a little advice 
gratis — if I give you the money 1 

Med, Ahem ! — I will. 

Cool. A fellow has insulted me. I want to abuse him — what terms 
are actionable^ 

Med. You may call him anything you please, providing thei-e are no 
witnesses. 

Cool. Oh, may 1 1 {looks around) then you rascally, pettifogging 
scoundrel I 

Med. Hallo! 

Cool. Yon meau — dirty — disgrace to your profession. 

Med. Libel — slander — 

Cool. Ay, but where are your witnesses '? 

Med. Give me the costs — six and eightpence. 

Cool. I deny that you gave me informatiou at all. 

Med. You do ! 

Cool. Yes, where are your witnesses 1 [Exit, l. 

Med. Ah — damme ! [Exit^ l. 



ACT III. 



SCENE. — A morning room in Oak HcdL French icindotm opening to 
the latcn. Max and Sir Harcourt seated on one side, Dazzle on 
the other ; Grace and Young Courtley playing chess at hack. 
All dressed for dinner. 

Max. {aside to Sir Harcourt). What can I do 1 

Sir H. Get rid of them civilly. 

Max. What, turn them out, after I particularly invited them to stay 
a month or two ? 

Sir H. Why, they are disreputable characters; as for that young 
fellow, in whom my Lady Courtley appears so i>articularly absorbed — 
I am bewildered — I have written to town for my Charles, my boy — it 
certainly is the most extraordinary likeness 

Daz. Sir Harcourt, 1 have an idea 

Sir H. Sir, I am delighted to hear it. {aside to Max) That fellow is 
a swindler. 

Max I met him at your house. 

Sir H. Never saw him before in all my life. 

Daz. {crossing to Sir Harcourt). I will bet you five to one that I 
can beat you three out of four games of billiards, with one hand. 

Sir H. No, sir. 

Daz. I don't mind giving you ten points in fifty. 

Sir H. Sir, I never gamble. 

Daz. You don't! Well, Til teach you — easiest thing in life — you 
have every requisite— good temper. 

Sir H. I have not, sir. 



ACT in.] LONDON ASSURANOF. j9 

Daz. a long-headed, knowing old buck. 

Sir H. Sir ! {they go up, conversing icith Max, c.) 

Gr\ce. Rejilly, Mr. Hamilton, you improve. A y( ^y .ii^*' f^ays us 
a visit, as you half intimate, to escape inconvenient frieii'x<> — thai, is com- 
plimentary to us, his hosts. 

Young C. Nay, that is too severe. 

Gracb. After an acquaintanceship of twa days, you sit down to 
teach me chess and domestic economy at the same time. Might I ask 
where you graduated in that science — where you learned all that store 
of matrimonial advice which you have obliged me with 1 {they come 
forward.) 

. Young C. I imbibed it, madam, from the moment I beheld you, and 
having studied my subject con amove, took my degrees from your 
eyes. 

Grace. Oh, I see you are a Master of Arts already. 

Young C. Unfortunately, no — I shall remain a bachelor — till you can 
assist me to that honor. (Sir Harcourt conies down — aside to Dazzle) 
Keep the old boy away. 

Daz. {aside). How do you get on ? 

Young C. {aside). Splendidly ! 

Sir H. Is the conversation strictly confidential? — or might I join ? 

Daz. {taking his arm). Oh, not in the least, my (Jear sir— we were re- 
marking that rifle shooting was an excellent diversion during the sum- 
mer months. 

Sir H. {drawing himself up). Sir, I was add.essing 

Daz. And I was saying what a pity it was I couldn't find any one 
reasonable enouiih to back his opinion with long odds — come out on 
the lawn, and pitch up your hat. and [ will hold you ten to one I put a 
bullet into it every time, at forty paces. 

Sir H. No, sir — I consider you 

Max. Here, all of you — look, here is Lady Gay Spanker coming 
across the lawn at a hand gallop ! 

Sir H. {running to windoic). Bless me, the horse is running away I 

Max Look hmv she takes that fence ! there's a seat. 

Sir H. Lady Gay Spanker — who may she be 7 

Grace * Gay Spanker, Sir Harcourt 1 My cousin and dearest friend — 
you must like her. 

Sir H. It will be my devoir, since it is your wish — though it will be a 
hard task in your presence. 

Grace. I Jim sure she will hke you. 

Sir H. Ha ! ha ! I flatter myself. 

Young C. Who, and what is she 1 

Grace. Glee, glee, made a living thing — Nature, in some frolic mood, 
shut up a merry devil in her eye, and, spiting Art, stole Joy's brightest 
harmony to thrill her laugh, which peals out sorrow's knell, Her cry 
rings loudest in the field — the very echo loves it best, and as each hill 
attempts to ape her voice, Earth seems to laugh that it made a thing so 
glad. 

Max. Ay, the merriest minx I ever kissed. (Lady Gay laughs witltr 
out.) 

Lady Gay {icithout). Max ! 

Max. Come in, you mischievous puss. 

Enter James, l. 
James. Mr. Adolphus and Lady Gay Spanker. [Exit. 



30 LONDON ASSURANCE. [aCT IH. 



Enter Lady Gay, ^.,fi(lbj cqyijyped in riding habit, etc. 

Lady G. Ha ! lia ! Well, governor, bow are ye" I have been down 
five times, climbing up your stairs in my lona clothes. How are you, 
Grace, dear 1 [kisses her) Tliere, don't fidget, Max. And there — {kisses 
him) there's one lor you. 

Sir H. Ahem ! 

Lady G. OIi, gracious, I didn't see you had visitors. 

Max. Permit me to introduce — Sir Harcourt Courtley, Lady Gay 
Spanker. Mr. Dazzle, Mr. Hamilton — Lady Gay Spanker. 

Sir H. (aside). A devilish fine woman ! 

Daz {aside to Sir Harcourt). She's a devilish fine woman. 

Lady G. You mustn't think anything of the liberties I take with my 
old pana here — bless him ! 

Sir H. Oh, no ! {aside) I only thought I should like to be in his 
place. 

Lady G. lam so glad you have come, Sir Harcourt. Now we shall 
be able to make a decent figure at the heels of a hunt. 

Sir H. Do^s your ladyship hunt 1 

Lady G. Ha! I say, governor, does my ladyship hunt? I rather 
flatter myself that I do hunt! Why, Sir Harcourt, one might as well 
live without laughing as without hunting. Man was fashioned express- 
ly to fit a horse. Are not hedges and ditches created for leaps "? Of 
course! And I look upon foxes to be one of the most blessed dispen- 
sations of a benign Providence. 

Silt H Yes, it is all veiy well in the abstract; I tried it once. 

Lady G. Once! Only once? 

Sir H Once, only once. And then the animal ran away with me. 

Lady G. Wiiy, you would not have him walk 1 

Sir H. Finding my society disagreeable, he instituted a series of 
kicks, with a view of removing the annoyance ; but aided by the united 
stays of the mane and tail, I frustrated his intentions, (all laugh) His 
next resouice, however, was more effectual, for he succeeded in rub- 
bing me off against a tree. 

Max and LwY G. Ha! ]ia!ha! 

Daz. How absurd you must have looked with your legs and arms in 
the air. like a shipwrecked tea-table. 

Sir H. Sir, I never looked absurd in my life. Ah, it may be very 
amusing in relation, I dare say, but very unpleasant in effect. 

Lady G. I i)ity you. Sir Harcourt ; it was criminal in your parents 
to neglect your education so shamefully. 

Sm H. Possibly ; but be assured, I shall never break my neck awk- 
wardly from a horse, when it might be accomplished with less trouble 
from a bed-room window. 

Young C. (aside). My dad will be caught by this die Bucephalus- 
tamer. .4 

Max. Ah ! Sir Harcourt, had j^ou been here a month ago, you would 
have witnessed the most glorious run that ever swept over merry Eng- 
land's green cheek — a stee{)le-chase, sir, which I intended to win, but 
my horse broke down the day before. I had a chance, notwithstanding, 
and but for Gay here, I should have won. How I regretted my absence 
from it ! How did my filly behave herself, Gay 1 

Lady G. Gloriously, Max! gloriously! There were sixty horses in 
the field, all mettle to the bone; the start was a picture — away we went 
in a cloud — pell-mell — helter-skelter — the fools first, as usual, using 
themselves up — we soon passed them — first your Kitty, then my Blue^- 



ACT ni.] LONDON ASSURANCE. 31 

skin, and Craven's colt last. Then came the tuff — Kitty skimmed the 
walls — Blueskin flew over the fences — the colt neck-and-ueck, and half 
a mile to run — at last the colt baulked a leap and went wild. Kitty 
and I had it all to ourselves — she was three lengths ahead as we 
breasted the last wall, six feet, if an inch, and a ditch on the other side. 
Now, for the first time, I gave Blueskin his head — ha! ha! Away he 
flew like a thunderbolt — overwent the filly — I over the same spot, leav- 
ing Kitty in the ditch — walked the steeple, eight miles iu thirty minutes, 
and scarcely turned a hair. 

All. Bravo! Bravo! 

Lady G. Do you hunt ? 

Daz. Hunt ! I belong to a hunting family. I was born on horseback 
and cradled in a kennel ! Ay, and I hope I may die with a whoo- 
whoop ! 

Max {to Sir Harcourt). You must leave your town liabits in the 
smoke of L6ndon ; here we rise with tlie lark. 

Sir n. Haven't the remotest conception when that period is. 

Gr.vce. The man that misses sunrise loses the sweetest part of his 
existence. 

Sir H. Oh, pardon me ; I have seen sunrise frequently after a ball, 
or from the windows of my travelling carriage, and I always considered 
it disagreeable. 

Grace. I love to watch the first tear that glistens in the opening eye 
of morning, the silent song the flowers breathe, the thrilling choir of 
the woodland minsti-els, to which the modest brook trickles applause: 
these swelling out the sweetest chord of sweet creation's matins, seem 
to pour some soft and merry tale into the daylight's ear, as if the wak- 
ing world had dreamed a happy thing, and now smiled o'er the telling 
of it. 

Sir H. The effect of a rustic education ! Who could ever discover 
music in a damp foggy morning, except those confounded waits, who 
never play in tune, and a miserable wretch who makes a point of cry- 
ing coffee under my window just as I am persuading myself to sleep: 
in fact, I never heard any music worth listening to, except in Italy. 

Lady G. No? then you never heard a well-trained English pack in 
full crv ] 

Sir.'H. Full cry! 

Lady G. Ay ! there is harmony, if you will. Give me the trumpet- 
neigh ; the spotted pack just catching scent, AVhat a chorus is their 
yelp ! The view-hallo, blent with a peal of free and fearless mirth ! 
That's our old English music — match it where you can. 

Sir H. (aside). I must see about Lady Gay Spanker. 

Daz, (aside to Sir Harcourt). Ah, would you 

Lady' G. Time then appears as young as love, and plumes as swift a 
wing. Away we go ! The earth flies back to aid our course ! Horse, 
man, hound, earth, heaven ! — all — all — one piece of glowing ecstacy ! 
Then I love the world myself, and every living thing — my jocund soul 
cries out for very glee, as it could wish that all creation had but one 
mouth, that 1 might kiss it! 

Sir H, (aside). I wish I were the mouth ? 

Max. Why, we will regenei-ate you, Baronet ! But Gay, where is 
your husband ? Where is Adolphus 1 

Lady G. Bless me, where is my Dolly 1 

Sir H. You are married, then 1 

Lady G. I have a husband somewhere, though I can't find him just 
now, Dolly, dear ! (aside to Max) Governor, at home I always whistle 
when I want him. 



32 LONDON ASSUliANCE. (ACT IH, 



Enter Spanker, l. 

Spanker. Here I am— did you call me, Gay ? 

Sir H. {eyeing him). Is that your husband ? 

Lady G. {amle). Yes, bless his stupid face, that's my Doiiy. 

Max. Permit me to introduce you to Sir Harcourt Courtley. 

Span. How d'ye do 1 1 — ah!-um! {appears frightened.) 

Lady G. Delighted to have the honor of making the acquaintance of 
a gentleman so highly celebrated in the world of fashion. 

Span. Oh, yes, delighted, I'm sure — quite — very, so delighted— de- 
lighted ! {gets quite confused, draws on his glove and tears it.) 

Lady G. Where have you been, Dolly 1 

Span. Oh, ah, I was just outside. 

Max. Why did you not come in? 

Span. I'm sure I didn't — I don't exactly know, but I thought as — 
perhaps — I can't remember. 

Daz. Shall we have the pleasure of your company to dinner 1 

Span. I always dine — usually — that is, unless Gay remains 

Lady G. Stay dinner, of course ; we came on purpose to stop three 
or four days with you. 

Grace. Will you excuse my absence, Gay 1 

Max. What! what! Where are you going ? Wiiat takes you away 1 

Grace. We must postpone the dinner till Gay is dressed. 

Max. Oh, never mind, — stay where you are. 

Gkace. No, I must go. 

Max. I say you sha'n't! I will be king in my own house. 

Grace. Do, my dear uncle ; — you shall be king, and I'll be your prime 
minister, — that is, I'll rule, and you shall have the honor of taking the 
consequences. [Exit, l. 

Lady G. Well said, Grace ; have your own way, it is the only thing 
we women ought to be allowed. 

Max. Come, Gay, dress for dinner. 

Sir H. Permit me, Lady Gay Spanker. 

Lady G. With pleasure, — what do you wanti 

Siti H. To escort you. 

Lady G. Oh, never mind, I can escort myself, thank you, and Dolly 
too ; — come, dear ! {Exit, k. 

Sir H. Au revoir ! 

Span. Ah, thank you ! [Exit, aickicardly, r. 

Sir H. What an ill-assorted pair ! 

Max. Not a bit ! She married him for freedom, and she has it; he 
married her for protection, and he has it. 

Sir H. How he ever summoned courage to propose to her, I can't 
guess. 

Max. Bless you, he never did. She proposed to him. She says he 
would if he could ; but as he couldn't, .she did it for him. 

[Exit Max and Sir H., laughing, l. 

Enter Cool icith letter, l. 

Cool. Mr. Charles, I have been watching to find you alone. Sir Har- 
court has written to town for you. 
You.NG 0. The devil he has ! 
Cool. He expects you down to-morrow evening. 
Daz. Oh ! he'll be punctual. A thought strikes me. 
Young C. Pooh ! Confound your thoughts ! I can think of nothing 



ACT ni.j LONDON ASSURANCE. 33 

but the idea of leaving Grace, at the very moment when I had establish- 
ed the most 

Daz What if 1 can prevent her marriage with your governor 1 

Young C. Impossible! 

Daz. He's pluming himself for the conquest of Lady Gay Spanker. 
It will not be difficult to make him believe she accedes to his suit. And 
if she would but join in the plan 

Young C. I see it all. And do you think she would 1 

Daz. I mistake my game if she would not. 

Cool. Here comes Sir Harcourt! 

Daz. I'll begin with him. Retire, ana watch how I'll open the cam- 
paign for you. [Young Couktley ami Cool retire. 

Enter Sir Harcourt, l. 

Sir H. Here is that cursed fellow again. 

Daz. Ah, my dear old friend ! 

Sir H. Mr. JJazzle ! 

Daz. I have a secret of importance to disclose to you. Are you a 
man of honor 1 Hush ! don't speak ; you are. It is with the greatest 
pain I am compelled to request you, as a gentleman, that you will shun 
studiously the society of Lady Gay Spanker ! 

Sm H. Good gracious! Wherefore, and by what right do you make 
such a demand 1 

Daz. Why, I am distantly related to the Spankers. 

Sir H. Why, damme, sir, if you don't appear to be related to every 
family in Great Britain I 

Daz. a good many of the nobility claim me as a connection. But, to 
return — she is much struck with your address ; evidently, she laid her- 
self out for display 

Sir H. Ha ! you surprise me ! 

Daz. To entangle you. 

Sir H. Ha ! ha! why, it did appear like it. 

Daz. You will spare her for my sake ; give her no encouragement ; 
if disgrace come upon my relatives, the Spankers, I should never hold 
up my head again. 

Sir H. {aside). I shall achieve an easy conquest, and a glorious. 
Ha ! ha ! I never remarked it before, but this is a gentleman. 

Daz. May I rely on your generosity 1 

Sir H. Faithfully, {shakes his hand) Sir, I honor and esteem you ; 
but, might I ask, how came you to meet our friend, Max Harkavvay, in 
my house in Belgrave Square 1 

Re-enter Young Courtley. Sits on sofa at hack, l. 

Daz. Certainly. I had an acceptance of your son's for one hundred 
pounds. 

Sir H. {astonisJied). Of my son's? Impossible! 

Daz. Ah, sir, fact! he paid a debt for a poor unfortunate man — 
fifteen children — half-a-dozen wives — the devil knows what all. 

Sir H. Simple boy. 

Daz. Innocent youth, I have no doubt; when you have the hundred 
convenient, I shall feel delighted. 

Sir H. Oh ! follow rae to my room, and if you have the document, it 
will be happiness to me to pay it. Poor Charles ! good heart! 

Daz. Oh, a splendid heart ! I dare say. [Exit Sir Harcourt, l. 
Come, here ; write rae the bill. 



34 LONDON ASSURANCE. . ^ ACT iU. 

Young C. What for ? 

Daz. What for? wliy, Lo release the unfortunate man and his family, 
to be sure, from jail. 

You.NG C. Who is he? 

Daz. Yourself 

Young C. But I haven't fifteen children ! 

Daz Will you take your oath of that I 

You.NG C. Nor four wives. 

Daz. More shame for you, with all that family. Come, don't be ob- 
stinate ; write and date it back. 

Young C. Ah, but where is the stamp ? 

Daz. Here they are, of all patterns, {pulls out a pocket-book) I keep 
them ready drawn in case of necessity, all but the date and acceptance. 
Now, if you are in an autographic humor, you can try how your signa- 
ture, will look across half-a-dozen of them ; — there — write — exactly — 
you know the place — across — good — and thank your lucky stars that 
you have found a friend at last, that gives you money and advice. 

[ Takes ptaper and exit, l. 

Young C. Things are approaching to a climax; 1 must ai)pear in 
propria persona — and immediately — but I must first ascertain what are 
ilie real sentiments of this riddle of a woman. Does she love me ? I 
flatter myself — by Jove here she comes — I shall never have such an op- 
portunity again ! 

[Enter Grace, l. 

Grace. I wish I had never seen Mr. Hamilton. Why does every ob- 
ject appear robbed of the charm it once presented to me? Why do I 
shudder at the contemplation of this marriage, which, till now, was to 
me a subject of indifference? Am I in love 1 In love! if 1 am, my 
past life has been the work of raising up a pedestal to place my own 
folly on — I — the infidel — the railer ! 

Young C. Meditating on matrimony, madam ? 

Grace {aside). He little thinks he was the subject of my meditations ! 
{aloud) No. 

Young C. {aside). I must unmask my battery now. 

Grace {aside). How foolish 1 am — he will perceive that I tremble — 
I must appear at ease, {a jyause.) 

Young C. Eh 1 ah ! urn ! 

Grace. Ah! {tJtey sink into silence again. Aside) How very awk- 
ward ! 

Young C. {aside). It is a very difficult subject to begin, (aloud) Ma- 
dam — ahem — there was- — is — 1 mean — I was about to remark — a — 
{aside) Hang me if it is not a very slippery subject. I must brush up 
my faculties; attack her in her own way. {aloud) Sing! oh, muse! 
{aside) Why, I have made love before to a hundred women ! 

Grace {aside). I wish I had something to do, for I have nothing to 
say. 

Young C. Madam — there is^a subject so fraught with fate to my 
future life, that you must pardon my lack of delicacy should a too 
hasty expression mar the fervent courtesy of its intent. To you, I feel 
aware, I must appear in the light of a comparative stranger. 

Grace {aside). I know what's coming. 

Young C. Of you — I know perhaps too much for my own peace. 

Grace (aside). He is in love. 

Young C. I forget all that befell befwre I saw your beauteous self; I 
seem born irito another world — my nature changed — the beams of that 
bright face falling on my soul, have, from its chaos, warmed into life 



ACTm.] LONDON ASSURANCE. 35 

the flowrets of affection, whose maiden odor? now float toward the sun, 
pouring forth on their pure tongue a mite of adoration, midst the voices 
of a universe, (aside) That's something in her own style. 

Grace. Mr. Hamilton ! 

Young C. You cannot feel surprised 

Grack. I am more tlian sui-prised. (aside) I am delighted. 

Young C. Do not si)eal< so coldly. 

Grace. You have offended me. 

Young C. No, madam ; no woman, whatever her state, can be offend- 
ed by the adoration even of the meanest ; it is myself whom I have 
offended and deceived — but still I aslc your pardon. 

Grace (aside). Oh' he thinlis I am refusing him. (aloud) I am not 
exactly offended, but 

Young C. Consider my position — a few days— and an insurmountable 
b;-rriei' would have placed you beyond ray wildest hopes — you would 
have been my mother. 

Grack. I should have been your mother! (aside) I thought so. 

Young C. No — that is. I meant Sir Harcourt Courtley's bride. 

Grack (with great emphasis). Never! 

Young C. How ! never! may I then hopel — you turn away — you 
would not lacerate me by a refusal ? 

Grace \aside). How stupid he is! 

Young C. Still silent ! I thank you. Miss Grace — I ought to have ex- 
pected this — fool that I have been — one course alone remains — fare- 
well ! 

Grace (aside). Now he's going. 

Young C. Farewell forever ! (sits) Will you not speak one word? I 
shall leave this house immediately — I shall not see you again. 

Grace. Unhand me, sir, 1 insist. 

Young C. (aside). Oh ! what an ass I've been! (rushes iqj to her and 
seizes her hand) Release this hand 1 Never ! never ! (kissing it) Never 
will I quiL this hand ! it shall be my companion in miser}' — in solitude — 
when you are far away. 

Grace. Oh ! should any one come! (drops her handkerchief; he 
stoops to pick it up) For Heaven's sake do not kneel. 

Young C. (kneels). Forever thus prostrate, before my soul's saint, 1 
will lead a pious life of eternal adoration. 

Grace. Should we be discovered thus — pray, Mr, Hamilton— pray — 
pray. 

Young C. Pray ! I am praying ; what more can I do "? 

Gijace Your conduct is shameful. 

Young C. It is. (rises.) 

Grace. And if I do not scream, is it not for your sake — that — but it 
might alarm the family. 

Young C. It might — it would. Say. am I wholly indifferent to you 7 
I entreat one word — I implore you — do not withdraw your hand, (she 
snatches it away — he puts his arm around her icaist) You smile. 

Grace. Leave me, dear Mr, Hamilton ! 

Young C, Dear ! Then I am dear to you ; that word once more ; say 
— say you love me ! 

Grace. Is this fair ? (he catches her in his arms and kisses her.) 

Enter Lady Gay Spanker, r. 

Lady G Ha ! oh ! 

Grace, Gay! destruction! [Exit, h. 

Young C, Fizgig ! The devil ! 



36 LONDON ASSURANCE. [aCT IH. 

Lady G. Don t mind me — pray, don't let me be any interruption ! 

Young C. I was just 

Lady G. Yes, I see you were. 

Young C. Oh ! madam, how could you mar ray bliss in the very ec- 
stacy of iis fulfinment'? 

Lady G. I alw.ays like to be in at the death. Never drop you ears ; 
bless you, she is only a little fresh — give her her head, and she will out- 
run herself. 

Young C. Possibly ; but what am I to do 7 

Lady G. Keep your seat. 

Young C But in a few days she will take a Teap that must throw me 
— she marries Sir Harcourt Courtley. 

Lady G. Why. that is awkward, certainly ; but you can challenge 
him, and shoot him. 

Young C. Unfortunately that is out of the question. 

Lady G. How so ? 

Young C. You will not betray a secret, if I inform you ? 

Lady G. All right — what is itl 

Young C. I am his son. 

Lady G. What — his son ? But he does not know you ? 

Young C. No ; I met him here by chance, and faced it out, I never 
saw him before in my life. 

Lady G. Beautiful! I see it all— you're in love with your mother 
that should be — your wife, that will be. 

Young C. Now, 1 think I could distance the old gentleman, if you 
will but lend us your assistance. 

Lady G. I will in anything. 

Young C. You must know, then, that my father, Sir Harcourt, has 
fallen desperately \n love with you. 

Lady G. With me ! {utters a scream of delight) That is delicious ! 
'^'Young C. Now, if you only could 

Lady G. Could ! — I will. Ha ! ha ! I see my cue. Til cross his 
scent — I'll draw him after me. Ho! ho! won't I make love to him ? 
Ha! 

Young C. The only objection might be Mr. Spanker who might 

Lady G. No, he miiihtn't, he has no objection. Bless him, he's an 
inestimable little character — you don't know him as well as I do. I 
dare say— ha ! ha ! {dinner-bell rings) Here they come to dinner. I'll 
commence my operations on your governor immediately. Ha ! ha ! 
how I shall enjoy it. 

Young C. Be guarded ! 

Enter Max Harkaway, Sir Harcourt, Dazzle, Grace and Span- 
ker, L. 

Max. Now, gentlemen — Sir Harcourt, do you lead Grace. 

Lady G. I believe Sir Harcourt is engaged to me. {takes his arm.) 

Max. Well, please yourselves. 

They file out, Mxk first, Young Courtley and Grace, Sir Harcourt 
couqetting icith Lady Gay, leacing Dazzle, loho offers his arm to 
Spanker. 



ACT rv.] LONDON ASSURANCE. 37 



ACT IV. 

SCENE. — A handsome draiDing-room in Oak Hall, chandeliers, tables 
loith hooks, draicings, etc. Grace and Lady Gay discovered. 
Servant handing coffee. 

Grace If there be one habit more abominable than another, it is 
that of the gentlemen sitting over their wine ; it is a selfish, nnfeeling 
fashion, and a gross insult to our sex. 

Lady G. We are turned out just when the fun begins. How happy 
the poor wretches look at the contemplation of getting rid of us. 

Grace. The conventional signal for the ladies to withdraw is anxious- 
ly and deliberately waited for. 

Lady G. Then I begin to wish I were a man. 

Grace. The instant the door is closed upon us, there rises a roar ! 

Lady G. In celebration of their short-lived liberty, my love ; rejoic- 
ing over their emancipation. 

Grace. I think it very insulting, whatever it may be. 

Lady G. Ah ! my dear, philosophers say that man is the creature of 
an hour — it is the dinner hour, I suppose, {loud noise. Cries of " A 
song, a song.") 

Grace. I am afraid they are getting too pleasant to be agreeable. 

Lady G. I hope the squire will restrict himself; after his third bottle 
he becomes rather voluminous, (cries of " Silence.") Some one is going 
to sing, {jumps up) Let us hear ! (Spanker is heard to sing.) 

Grace. Oh, no, Gay, for Heaven's sake ! 

Lady G. Oho ! ha! ha! why, that is my Dolly, {at the conclusion of 
the verse) Well, I never heard my Dolly sing before ! Happy wretches, 
how I envy them ! 

Enter James, l., icith a note. 

James. Mr. Hamilton has just left the house for London. 

Grace. Impossible! — that is, without seeing — that is 

Lady G. Ha! ha! 

Grace. He never — speak, sir! 

James. He left, Miss Grace, in a desperate hurry, and this note, I be- 
lieve, for you. {presenting a note on salver.) 

Grace. For me 1 {about to snatch it, but restraining herself, takes 
it coolly.) [Exit Jame.^. 

{Reads) " Your manner during dinner has left me no alternative but 
instant departure ; my absence will release you from the oppression 
which my society nuist necessarily inflict on your sensitive mind. It 
may tend also to smother, though it can never extinguish, that indom- 
itable passion, of which I am the passive victim. Dare I supplicate 
pardon and oblivion for the past 1 It is the last request of the self-de- 
ceived, but still loving Adgdstus Hamilton." {pats her hand to her 
forehead and appears giddy.) 

Lady G. Hallo, Grace ! what's the matter ? 

Grace {recovering herself). Nothing — the heat of the room. 

Lady G. Oh! what excuse does he make! particular unforeseejj 
business, I suppose ? 

Grace. Why, yes — a mere formula— a — a — you may put it in the fire. 
{puts it in her bosom.) 

Lady G. {aside). It is near enough to the fire where it is. 



38 LONDON ASSUKANCE. j ACT IV. 

Gkace. I'm glad he's gone. 

Lady G. So am I. 

Grace. He was a disagreeble, ignorant person. 

Lady G Yes; and so vulgar. 

Grack. No, lie was not at all vulgar. 

Lady G. I mean in appearance. 

Guace. Oh ! how can you so? he was very distingue. 

Lady G. Well, I might have been mistaken, but'I took him for a for- 
ward, intrusive 

Okace Good gracious. Gay ! he was very retiring — even shy. 

Lady G. {aside). It's all right. She is in love, — blows hot and cold 
in the same breath. 

Grace. How can you be a competent judge *? Why, you have not 
known him more than a few hours, — while I — I 

Lady G. Have known him two days and a quarter! I yield — I con- 
fess, I never was, or will be so intimate with him as you appeared to be 1 
Ha ! ha ! {loud noise of argument. The folding-doors are thrown 
open.) 

Enter the lohole party of Gentlemen, aj)parently engaged in warm 
discussion. They assemble in knots, while the Servants ?iand cof- 
fee, etc. Max, Sir Harcourt, Dazzle, and Spanker, together. 

Daz. But; my dear sir, consider the position of the two countries, 
under such a constitution. 

Sir H The two countries ! What have they to do with the subject. 

Max. Everything. Look at their two legislative bodies. 

Span. Ay, look at their two legislative bodies. 

Sir H. Why, it would inevitably establish universal anarchy and 
confusion 

Grace. I think that they are pretty well established already. 

Span, Well, suppose it did, what has anarchy and confusion to do 
with the subject ? 

Lady G. Do look at my Dolly : he is arguing — talking politics — 'pon 
my life he is. {calling) Mr. S[)anker, my dear ! 

Span. Excuse me, love, I am discussing a point of importance. 

Lady G. Oh, that is delicious ; he must discuss that to me. {sJie goes 
up and leads him down, he appears to have shaken off his gaucherie. 
she shakes her head) Dolly ! Dolly ! 

Span. Pardon me, Lady Gay Spanker, I conceive your mutilation of 
my sponsorial appellation derogatory to my amour propre. 

Lady G. Your what 1 Ho ! ho ! 

Si'AN. And I particularly request that, for the future, I may not be 
treated with that cavalier si)irit which does not become your sex nor 
your station, your ladyship. • 

Lady G. You have been indulging till you have lost the little wit na- 
ture dribbled into your unfortunate little head — your brains want the 
whipper-in — you are not yourself. 

Span. Madam, I am doubly myself; and permit me to inform you, 
that unless you voluntarily pay obedience to my commands, 1 shall en- 
force them. 

Lady G. Your commands ! 

Span. Yes, madam ; I mean to put a full stop to your hunting. 

Lady G. You do! ah! {aside) I can scarcely speak from delight. 
(aloud) Who put such an idea into your head, for I am sure it is not an 
original emanation of yom- genius 1 

Span. Sir Harcourt Courtley, my friend ; and now, mark me I I re- 



ACT IV. I LONDON ASSURANCE. 89 

quest, for your own sake, that I may not be compelled to assert my a — 
jiiy authority, as your husband. I shall say no more than this — it" you 
peisist in your absurd rebellion 

LadyG. Welly 

Span. Contemplate a separation. 

[Looks at her haughtily and retires. 

Lady G. Now I'm liappy ! My own little darling, inestimable Dolly, 
lias tumbled into a spirit, somehow. Sir Harcourt, too ! Ha ! ha ! he's 
trying to make him ill-treat me, so that his own suit may thrive. 

Sir H. {advances'). Lady Gay ! 

Lady G. Now for it. 

Sir H. What hours of misery were those I passed, when, by your 
secession, the room suffered a total eclipse. 

Lady G. Ah ! you flatter. 

Sir H. No, pardon me, that were impossible. No, believe me, I tried 
to join in the boisterous mirth, but my thoughts would desert to the 
drawing-room. Ah ! how I envied the careless levity and cool indif- 
ference with which Mr, Spanker enjoyed your absence. 

Daz. {wlio is lounging in a chair). Max, that Madeira is worth its 
weight in gold ; I hope you have more of it. 

Max. a pipe, Ithink. 

Daz. I consider a magnum of that nectar, and a meerschaum of kan- 
aster, to consummate the ultimatum of all mundane bliss. To drown 
myself in liquid ecstacy, and then blow a cloud on which the enfran- 
chised soul could soar above Olympus. Oh ! 

Enter James, l. 

James. Mr. Charles Courtley ! 

Sir H. Ah, now. Max, you must see a living apology for my conduct. 

Enter Young Courtley, dressed very plainly. 

Well, Charles, how are you 1 Don't be afraid. There, Max, what do 
you say now ? 

Max Well, this is the most extraordinary likeness. 

Grace {aside). Yes — considering it is the original. I am not so easily 
deceived ! 

Max. Sir, I am delighted to see you. 

Young C. Thank you, sir. 

Daz. Will you be kind enough to introauce me, Sir Harcourt? 

SiK H. This is Mr. Dazzle, Charles. 

Young C. Which y [looking from Spanker to Dazzle ) 

Sir H. (^o Lady Gay) Ls not that refreshing? Miss Harkaway — 
Charles, this is your mother, or rather will be. 

Young C. Madam, 1 shall love, honor, and obey you punctually. 
{takes out book, sighs, and goes up reading.) 

Enter James, l. 

Sir H. You perceive ] Quite unused to society — perfectly ignorant 
of every conventional rule of life. 

James. The doctor and the young ladies have arrived. [Exit, l. 

Max. The young ladies — now we must to the ball — I make it a rule 
always to commence the festivities with a good old country dance — a 
rattling Sir Roger de Coverly ; come. Sir Harcourt. 



40 LONDON ASSURANCE. [aCT IV. 

Sir H. Does this antiquity require a war-whoop in it ? 

Max. Nothing but a nimble foot and a light heart. 

Sir H. Very antediluvian indispensables ! Lady Gay Spanker, will 
you honor nieby becoming my preceptor ? 

Lapy G. Why, 1 am engaged — but {aloud) on such a plea as Sir Har- 
court's, I must waive all obstacles. 

Max. Now, Grace, girl — give your hand to Mr. Courtley. 

Grace. Pray, excuse me, uncle — I have a headache. 

Sir H. {aside)- Jealousy ! by the gods. Jealous of my devotions at 
another's fane ! {aloud) Charles, my boy ! amuse Miss Grace during 
our absence. [Exit, with Lady Gay, l. 

Max. But don't you dance, Mr. Courtley ? 

YouxG C. Dance, sir ' — I never dance — I can procure exercise in a 
much more rational manner— and music disturbs my meditations. 

Max Well, do the gallant. [Exit, l. 

Young C. I never studied that art — but I have a Prize Essay on a 
hydrostatic subject, which would delight her — for it enchanted the 
Reverend Doctor Pump, of Corpus Christi. 

Grace {aside). What on earth could have induced him to disguise 
himself in that frightful way! — I rather suspect some plot to entrap me 
into a confession. 

Young C. (aside). Dare I confess this trick to her 1 No! Not until 
I have proved her affection indisputably. Let me see — I must concoct. 
(takes a chair, and foryetting his assumed character, is about to take 
his natural free manner. Grace looks surprised. He turns abashed) 
Madam, I have been desired to amuse you. 

Grace. Thank you, 

Young C. " The labor we delight in, physics pain." I will draw you 
a mo'.al, ahem ! Subject, the effects of inebriety ! — which, according 
to Ben Jonson — means perplexion of the intellects, caused by imbibing 
spirituous liquors. About en hour before my arrival, I passed an ap- 
palling evidence of the effects of this state— a carriage was overthrown 
— horses killed — gentleman ia c hopeless state, with his neck broken — 
all occasioned by the intoxication of the post-boy. 

Grace. That is very amusing. 

Young C. I found it edifying — nutritious food for reflection — the ex- 
piring man desired his best compliments to you. 

Grace. To me 7 

Young C. Yes. 

Grace His name was 

Young C. Mr. Augustus Hamilton. 

Grace. Augustus! Oh! (affects to faint.) 

Young C. (aside). Huzza I 

Grace But where, sir, did this happen ? 

Young C. About four miles down the road. 

Grace. He must be conveyed here. 

Enter Servant, l. 

Serv. Mr. Meddle, madam. [Exit, L, 

Enter Meddle, l. 

Med. On very particular business. 

Grace. The very person. My dear sir 1 

Med. My dear madam ! 

Grace. You must execute a very particular commission for me im- 



ACT IV.] LONDON ASSUKANCE. 41 

mediately. Mr. Hamilton has met with a frightful accident on the Lon- 
don road, and is in a dN'ing state. 

Med. Well ! I have no hesitation in saying, lie takes it uncommonly 
easy — he looks as if he was used to it. 

GuACE. You mistake; that is not Mr. Hamilton, but Mr. Courtley, 
wlio will explain everything, and conduct you to the spot. 

YocxG C. {aside). Oh ! I must put a stop to all this, or I shall be 
found out. {aloud) Madam, that were useless, for I omitted to mention 
a small fact which occurred before I left Mr. Hamilton — he died 

Grace. Dear me ! Oh, then we needn't trouble you, Mr. Meddle. 
{music heard) Hark ! I hear they are commencing a waltz — if you will 
ask me— perhaps your society and conversation may tend to dispel the 
dreadful sensations you have aroused. 

Young C. {aside). Hears of my death — screams out — and then asks 
me to waltz! I am bewildered! Can she suspect me? I wonder 
which she likes best — me or my double 1 Confound this disguise — [ 
must retain it — I have gone too far with my dad to pull up now. {aloud) 
At your service, madam. 

Grace {aside). I will pay him well for this trick ! 

[Exeunt, l., all but Meddle. 

Med. Well, if that is not Mr. Hamilton, scratch me out with a big 
blade, for I am a blot — a mistake upon the rolls. There is an error in 
Ihe pleadings somewhere, and I will discover it. I would swear to his 
identity before the most discriminating jury. By the bye, this acci- 
dent will form a capital excuse for my presence here. I just stepped 
in to see how matters worked, and-^stay — here comes the bridegroom 
elect — and, oh ! in his very arms, Lady Gay Spanker! {loojcs round) 
Where are my witnesses 7 Oh, that some one else were here ! However 
I can retire and get some information, eh — Spanker versus Courtley — 
damages — witness, {gets into an arm-chair, which he turns round.) 

Enter Sir Harcourt Courtley, supporting Lady G.^t, l. 

Sir H. This cool room will recover you. 

Lady G. Excuse my trusting to you for support. 

Sir H. I am transported ! Allow me thus ever to support this lovely 
burden, and I shall conceive that paradise is regained, {they sit.) 

Lady G. Oh ! Sir Harcourt, I feel very faint. 

Sir H. The waltz made you giddy. 

Lady G. And I have left my salts in the other room. 

Sir H. I always carry a flacon, for the express accommodation of 
the fair sex. {producing a smelling-bottle.) 

Lady G. Thank you — ah ! {she sighs,) 

Sir H. What a sigh was there ! 

Lady G. The vapor of consuming grief. 

Sir H. Grief? Is it possible! Have you a grief? Are you un- 
happy 1 Dear me ! 

Lady G. Am I not married 1 

Siu H What a horrible state of existence! 

Lady G. I am never contradicted, so there are none of those enliven- 
ing, interesting little diflferences which so pleasingly diversity the mo- 
notony of conjuial life, like spots of verdure — no quarrels, like oases 
in the desert of matrimony — no rows. 

Sir H. How vulgar ! what a brute ! 

Lady G. I never have anything but my own way ; and he won't per- 
mits me t,o spend more than I like. 

Sir H. Mean-spirited wretch ! 



42 LONDON ASSUKANCE. [aCT IV. 

Lady G. How can I help being miserable 1 

Sir H Miserable ! I wonder you are not in a lunatic asylum, with 
such unheard-of barbarity! 

Lady G. But worse than all that! 
Sir H. Can it be out-Heroded 1 

Lady G. Yes, I could forgive that — I do — it is my duty. But only 
imagine— picture to yourself, ray dear Sir Harcourt, though I, the 
third daughter of an Earl, married him out of pily for his destitute and 
lielpless situation as a bachelor with ten thousand a year — conceive, if 
you can — he actually permits me, with the most placid indifference, to 
flirt with any old fool I may meet. 

Sir H. Good gracious ! miserable idiot ! 

Lady G. I fear there is an incompatability of temper, which renders 
a separation inevitable. 

Sir H. Indispensable, my dear madam ! Ah ! had I been the happy 
possessor of such a realm of bliss — what a beatific eternity unfolds 
itself to my extending imagination ! Had another man but looked at 
you, I should have annihilated him at once ; and if he had the temerity 
to speak, his life alone could have expiated his crime. 

Lady G. Oh, an existence of such a nature is too bright for the eye 
of thought — too sweet to bear reflection. 

Sir H. My devotion, eternal, deep 

Lady G. Oh, Sir Harcourt ! 

Sir H. {more fervently). Your every thought should be a separate 
study — each wish forestalled by the quick apprehension of a kindred 
Boul. 

Lady G. Alas ! how can I avoid my fate ? 

Sir H. If a life — a heart — were offered to j'our astonished view by 
one who is considered the index of fashion — the vane of the heau 
tnonde — if you saw him at your feet begging, beseeching your accep- 
tance of all, and more than this, what would your answer 

Lady G. Ah ! I know of none so devoted ! 

Sir H. You do ! {throwing himself u^jon his knees) Behold Sir Har- 
court Courtley ! {\\^T)Dh¥j jumps tqj into the chair.) 

Lady G. {aside). Ha! ha! YoicIvS I Puss has broken cover. 

Silt H. Speak, adored, dearest Lady Gay ! — speak — will you fly from 
the tyranny, the wretched misery of such a monster's roof, and accept 
the soul which lives but in your presence ! 

Lady G. Do not press me. Oh, spare a weak, yielding woman — be 
contented to know that you are, alas ! too dear to me. But the world 
■ — the world would say 

Sir H. Let us be a precedent to open a more extended and liberal 
view of matrimonial advantages to society 

Lady G. How irresistible is your argument ! Oh ! paus^e ! 

Sir H. I have ascertained for a fact, that every tradesman of mine 
lives with his wife, and thus you see it has become a vulgar and plebeian 
custom. 

Lady G. Leave me ; I feel I cannot withstand your powers of per- 
suasion. Swear that you will never forsnke me. 

Sir H. Dictate the oath May I grow wrinkled — may two inches be 
added to the circumference of my waist — may I lose the fall in my 
back — may I be old and ugly the instant I forego one tithe of adora- 
tion ! 

Lady G I must believe you. 

Sill H. Shall we leave this detestable spot — this horrible vicinity 1 

Lady G. The sooner the better ; to-morrow evening let it be. Now 
let me return ; my absence will be remarked, {he kisses her hand) Do 



ACT IV. J LONDON ASSURANCE. ^ 4:3 

I appear confused 1 Has my agitation rendered me unfit to enter 
the room? 

Sir H. INIore angelic by a lovely iinge of heightened color. 

Lady G. To-morrow, in this room, which opens on the lawn. 

Sir H. At eleven o'clock. 

Lady G. Have your carriai^e in waiting, and four horses. Remem- 
ber, please be particular to liave four ; don't let the affair come off 
shabbily. Adieu, dear Sir Harcourt! [Exit,!,. 

Sir H. Veni, vidi, vici ! Hannibal, Caesar, Napoleon, Alexander never 
completed so fair a conquest in so short a time. She dropped fasci- 
nated. This is an unprecedented example of the irresistible force of 
personal appearance combined with polished address. Poor creature ! 
how she loves me ! I pity so prostrating a passion, and ought to re- 
turn it. I will ; it is a duty I owe to society and fashion. [Exit, l. 

Med. {turns the chair round). " There is a tide in the affairs of men, 
which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." This is my tide — I am 
the only witness. "Virtue is sure to find its own reward." But I've 
no time to contemplate what I shall be — something huge. Let me see 
— Spanker versus Courtley — Crim. Con. Damages placed at £150,000 
at least, for juries always decimate your hopes. 

Enter Spanker, l. 

Span. I cannot find Gay anywhere. 

Mfin. The plaintiff himself — 1 must commence the action. Mr. Span- 
ker, as I have information of deep vital importance to impart, will you 
take a seat y {they sit solemnly. Meddle takes out a note-hook and 
pencil) Ahem ! You have a wife 7 

Re-enter Lady Gay behind, l. 

Span. Yes, I believe I 

Med. Will you be kind enough, without any prevarication, to answer 
my questions ? 

Span. You alarm — I 

Med. Compose yourself and reserve your feelings ; take time to con- 
sider. You have a wife 1 

Span. Yes 

Med. He has a wife — good — a bona-fide wife — bound morally and 
legally to be your wife, and nobody else's in effect, except on your 
written permission 

Span. But what has this 

Med. Hush 1 allow me, my dear sir, to congratulate you. {shakes his 
hand.) 

Span. What for 7 

Med. Lady Gay Spanker is about to dishonor the bond of wedlock 
bv eloping from j'ou. 
'Span, {darting). What? 

Med. Be patient — I thought j'^ou would be overjoyed. Place the 
affair in my hands, and I will venture to promise the largest damages 
on record. 

Span. D — n the damages ! — I want my wife. Oil, I'll go and ask her 
not to run away. She may run away with me — she may hunt — she 
may ride— anything she likes. Oh, sir, let us put a stop to this affair. 

Med. Put a stop to it! do not alarm me, sir. Sir, you will spoil the 
most exquisite brief that was ever penned. It must proceed — it shall 



44: LONDON ASSURANCE. [acT IV. 

proceed. It is illegal to prevent it, and I will bring an action against 
you for wilful intent to injure the profession. 

Span. Oh, what an ass I am ! Oh, I have driven her to this. It was 
all that d— d brandy punch on the top of Burgundy. What a fool I 
was ! 

Med. It was the happiest moment of your life. 

Span. So I thought at the time; but we live to grow wiser. Tell me, 
who is this vile seducer ] 

Med. Sir Harcourt Courtley. 

Span. Ha ! he is my best friend. 

Med. I should think he is. If you will accompany me — here is a 
verbatim copy of the whole transaction in short-hand — sworn to by me. 

Span. Only let me have Gay back again. 

jMed. Even that may be arranged — this way. 

Span. That ever I should live to see my wife run away. Oh, I will do 
anything — keep two packs of hounds — buy up every horse and ass iu 
England — myself included — oh ! [Exit Spanker and Meddle, l. 

Lady G. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Poor Dolly ! I'm sorry I must continue to 
deceive him. If he would kindle up a little. So, that fellow over- 
heard all — well, so much the better. 

Enter Young Courtley, r. 

Young C. My dear madam, how fares the plot 1 does my governor 
nibble? 

Lady G. Nibble ! he is caught and in the basket. I have just left 
him with a hook in his gills, panting for very lack of element. But 
how goes on your encounter 1 

Young C. Bravely. By a simple ruse, I have discovered that she 
loves me. I see but one chance against the best termination I could 
hope. 

Lady G. What is that ? 

Young C. My father has told me that 1 return to town again to-mor- 
row afternoon. 

Lady G. Well, I insist you stop and dine — keep out of the way. 

Young C. Oh, but what excuse shall I offer for disobedience ! What 
can I say when he sees me before dinner 1 

Lady G. Say — say Grace. 

Enter Grace, l., and gets behind the window curtains. 

Young C. Ha ! ha ! 

Lady G. I have arranged to elope with Sir Harcourt myself to-mor- 
row night. 

Young C. The deuce you have ! 

Lady G. Now if you could persuade Grace to follow that example — 
his carriage will be waiting at the Park — be tliere a little before eleven, 
and it will just prevent our escape. Can you make her agree to that? 

Young C. Oh, without the slightest difficulty, if Mr. Augustus Ham- 
ilton supplicates. 

Lady G. Success attend you, (going.) 

Ycung C. I will bend tlie hauglity Grace, {going.) 

Lady G. Do. [Exeunt severally, 

Grace. Will you 1 

curtain. 



ACT V.J LONDON ASSURANCE. 45 

ACT V. 

SCENE. — A draioing-room in Oak Hall. 

Enter Cool, l. 

Cool. This is tlie most serious affair Sir Harcourt has ever been en- 
gaged ill. 1 took the liberty of considering liim a fool when he told me 
he was going to marry ; but voluntarily to incur another man's incum- 
brance is very little short of madness. If he continues to conduct him- 
self in this absurd manner, I shall be compelled to dismiss hiiu. 

Enter Sir Harcourt, l.j equipped for travelling. 

Sir H. Cool ! 

Cool. Sir Harcourt. 

Sir H. Is my chariot in vvaiting 1 

Cool. .For the last half hour at the park wicket. But, pardon the 
insinuation, sir; would it not be more advisable to hesitate a little for a 
short reflection before you undertake the heavy responsibility of a 
woman ? 

SiR H. No; hesitation destroys the romance of afaux pas, and re- 
duces it to the level of a mere mercantile calculation. 

Cool. What is to be done with Mr. Charles ? 

Sir H. Ay, much against my will, Lady Gay prevailed on me to per- 
mit him to remain. You, Cool, must return him to college. Pass 
through London, and deliver these papers ; here is a small notice of 
the coming elopement for the Morning Post; this, bj"- an eye-witness, 
for the Herald ; this, with all the particulars, for the Chronicle ; and the 
full and circumstantial account for the evening journals — after which, 
meet us at Boulogne. 

Cool. Very good, Sir Harcourt. (going.) 

Sir H. Lose no time. Remember — Hotel Anglais, Boulogne-sur- 
]\Ier. And, Cool, bring a few copies with you, and don't forget to dis- 
tribute some amongst very particular friends. 

Cool. It shall be done. [Exit. l. 

" Sir H. With what indifference does a man of the world view the 
approach of the most perilous catastrophe! My position, hazardous as 
it is, entails none of that nervous excitement which a neophyte in the 
school of fashion would feel. I am as cool and steady as i)ossible. 
Habit, habit ! Oh ! how many roses will fade upon the cheek of beauU^ 
when the defalcation of Sir Harcourt Courtley is whispered — then 
hinted — at last, confirmed and bruited. I tliink I see them. Then, on 
my return, they will not dare to eject me — I am their sovereign ! Who- 
ever attempts to think of treason, I'll banish him from the West End — 
I 11 cut him — I'll put him out of fashion !" 

Enter Lady Gay, l. 

Lady G. Sir Harcourt ! 
Sir H. At your feet. 

Lady G [ had hoped you would have repented. 
Sir H Repented ! 

Lady G. Have you not come to say it was a jest 1 — say you have ! 
Sir H. Love is too sacred a subject to be trifled with. Come, let us 
fly ! See, I have procured disguises 



46 LONDON ASSURANCE. [aCT V. 

Lady G. My courage begins to fail me. Let me return. 

Sir II. Impossible ! 

Lady G. Where do yon intend to take me 1 

Sir H. You siiall be my guide. The carriage waits. 

Lady G. You will never desert me 1 

Sib H. Desert! Oh, Heavens! .\ay, do not hesitate — flight, now, 
alone is left to your desperate situation ! Come, every moment is laden 
with danger, {ihei/ are going.) 

Lady G. Oh ! gracious ! 

Sir H. Hush ! what is it ] 

Lady G. I have forgotten — I must return. 

Sir H. Impossible ! 

Lady G I must ! I must! I have left Max — a pet staghound. in 
his basket — without whom life would be unendurable — I could not 
exist ! 

Sir H. No, no. Let him be sent after us in a hamper. 

Lady G. In a hamper I Remorseless man! Go— you love me not. 
How would you like to be sent after me — in a hamper l Let me fetch 
him. Hark! I hear him squeal ! Oli ! Max — xMax ! 

Sir H. Hush ! for Heaven's sake. They 11 imagine you're calling the 
Squire. I hear footsteps ; where can I retire 1 {goesiip, r.) 

Enter Meddle, Spanker, Dazzle, and Max, l. Lady Gay screams. 

Med. Spanker versus Courtley ! — I subpoena every one of you as wit- 
nesses ! — I have 'em ready — here they are — shilling a-piece. {giving 
them round.) 

Lady G. Where is Sir Harcourt 1 

Med. There ! — bear witness ! — call on the vile delinquent for protec- 
tion ! 

Span. Oh ! his protection ! 

Lady G. What? ha! 

Med. Ill swear I overheard the whole elopement planned — before 
any jury ! — where's the book 1 

Span. Do you hear, you profligate 1 

Lady G. Ha! ha! ha! ha! 

Daz. But where is this wretched Lothario ? 

Med. Ay, where is the defendant I 

Span. Where lies the hoary villain! 

Lady G. What villain'? 

Span. That will not serve you ! — I'll not be blinded that way ! 

Med. We won't be blinded any way ! 

Max. I must seek Sir Harcourt, and demand an explanation ! Such 
a thincr never occurred in Oak Hall before — it must be cleared up ! 

[Exit, R. 

Med. (rmfZe to Spanker). Now, take my advice; remember your 
gender. Mind the notes I have given you. 

Span, (aside). All right ! Here they are ! Now, madam, I have pro- 
cured the highest legal opinion on this point. 

Med. Hear ! hear ! 

Span. And the question resolves itself into a — into — What's this 1 
(looks at notes.) 

Med. a nutshell ! 

Span. Yes, we are in a nutshell. Will you, in every respect, sub- 
scribe to my requests — desires — commands— (^f6»^s at notes) — orders — 
imperative — iiulicative — injunctive — or otherwise 1 

Lady G. {aiide), 'Pon my life, he's actually going to assume the rib- 



ACT V. j LONDON ASSURANCE. 47 

bons, and take the box-seat. I must put a stop to this. I will ! It 
will all end in smoke. I Unow Sir Hai'court would rather run than 
fi^ht ! 

Daz. Oh! I smell powder ! — command my services. My dear madam, 
can I be of any use ? 

Span. Oli ! a challenge ! I must consult my legal adviser. 

Med No! impossible! 

Daz. Pooh ! the easiest thing in life ! Leave it to me. What has aa 
attorney to do with affairs of honor 1 — they are out of hfs element. 

Med. Compromise the question? Pull liis nose! — we have no objec- 
tion to that. 

Daz. {turning to Lady Gay). Well, we have no objection^either — have 
we 1 

Lady G. No ! — pull his nose — that will be something. 

Med. And, moreover, it is not exactly actionable ! 

Daz. Lsn't it ! — thank you — I'll note down that piece of information — 
it may be useful. 

Med. How ! cheated out of my legal knowledge 1 

Lady G. Mr. Spanker, I am determined ! — I insist upon a challenge 
being sent to Sir Harcourt Courtley ! — and — maik me — if you refuse to 
fight him— I will. 

Med. Don't; take my advice — you'll incapacit 

Lady G. Look you, Mr. Meddle, unless you wish me to horsewhip 
you. hold your tongue. 

Med. What a she-tiger — I shall retire and collect my costs. 

[Exit I.. 

Lady G. Mr. Spanker, oblige me by writing as I dictate. 

Span. He's gone — and now I am defenceless ' Is this the fate of 
husbands ! — a duel ! Is this the result of becoming master of my own 
family 7 

Lady G. " Sir, the situation in which you were discovered with my 
wife, admits neither of explanation nor apology." 

Span. Oh, yes ! but it does — I don't believe you really intended to 
run quite away. 

Lady G. You do not: but I know better, I say 1 did ! and if it had 
not been for your unfortunate interruption, I do not know where I 
might have been by this time. Go on. 

Span. " Nor apology." I'm writing ray own death-warrant — commit- 
ting suicide on compulsion. 

LadV G. "The bearer will arrange all preliminary matters; for 
another day must see this sacrilege exj)iated by your life, or that of 
yours very sincerely, Dolly Spanker." Now, Mr. Dazzle, {gives it over 
hia head ) 

Daz. The document is as sacred as if it were a hundred pound bill. 

Lady G. We trust to your discretion. 

Span. His discretion ! Oh, put your head in a tiger's mouth, and 
trust to his disci oaon ! 

Daz. {sealing letter, etc., loith Spanker's seal). My dear Lady Gay, 
matters of this kind are indigenous lo my nature, independently of 
their pervading fascination to all humanity; but this is the more es- 
])ecially delightful, as you may i)erceive I shall be the intimate and 
bosom friend of both paities. 

Lady G. Js it not the only alternative in such a case 1 

Daz. It is a beautiful panacea in any, in every case, {going — rcttirns) 
By the way, where would you like this party of pleasure to come off"? 
Open air shooting is pleasant enough, but if I might venture to advise, 
we could order balf-a-dozeu of that Madeira and a box of cigars into 



48 LONDON ASSURANCE. [aCT V. 

the billiard-room, so make a night of it; take up the irons every now 
and llien ; string for first shot, and blaze away at one another in an 
amicable and gentlemanlike way ; so conchide the matter before the 
protency of the liquor could disturb the individuality of the object, or 
the smoke of the cigars render the outline dubious. Does such an ar- 
rangement coincide with your views 1 

Lady G. Perfectly. 

Daz. I trust shortly to be the harbinger of happy tidings. 

[Exit, L. 

Span, {coming forward). Lady Gay Spanker, are you ambitious of 
becoming a widow ? 

Lady G. Why, Dolly, woman is at best but weak, and weeds become 
me. 

Span. Female! am I to be immolated on the altar of your vanity 1 

Lady G. If you become path'tic, I shall laugh. 

Span. Farewell — base, heartless, unfeeling woman! [Exit, l. 

Lady G. Ha! well, so 1 am. I am heartless, for he is a dear, good 
little fellow, and I ought not to play upon his feelings ; but 'pon my life 
he sounds so well up at concert pitch, that I feel disinclined to untune 
him. Poor Doll, I didn't think he called so mnch about me. I will 
put him out of pain. [Exit, l. Sir Harcouht comes down. 

Sir H. I have been a fool ! a dupe to my own vanity. 1 shall be 
pointed at as a ridiculous old coxcomb — and so 1 am. The hour of con- 
viction is arrived. Have I deceived myself V Have T turned all my 
senses inwards — looking towards self — always self? — and has the world 
been ever laughing at me 1 Weil, if they have, I will revert the joke ; 
they may sa}'^ I am an old ass; but I will prove that I am neither too 
old to repent my folly, nor such an ass as to flinch from confessing it. 
A blow half met is but half felt. ' 

Enter Dazzle, l. 

Daz. Sir Harcourt, may i be permitted the honor of a few minutes' 
conversation with you 1 

Sir H. With pleasure. 

Daz. Have the kindness lo throw your eye over that, {gives letter.) 

Sir H. {reads). ' Situation — my wife — apology — expiate — my life." 
Why, this is intended for a challenge. 

Daz. Why, indeed, 1 am perfectly aware that it is not quite €7i regie 
in the couching, for with that I had nothing to do ; but I trust that the 
irregularity of the composition will be confounded in the beauty of the 
subject. 

Sir H. Mr. Dazzle, are you in earnest ' 

Daz. t;ir Harcourt Courtley, upon my honor I am, and I hope that 
no previous engaoement will interfere with an immediate reply in pro- 
pria persona. We have fixed upon the billiard room as the scene of 
action, which have just seen properly illuminated in honor of the OC' 
casion ! and, by the bye, if your implements are not handy, I can oblige 
you with a pair of the sweetest things you ever handled — hair-trig- 
gered — saw grip ; heir-looms in my family. I regard them almost in 
the light of relations. 

Sir H. Sir, I shall avail myself of oneof your relatives, (aside) One 
of the hereditaments of my lolly — I must accept it. (aloud) Sir, I shall 
be happy to meet Mr. Spanker at any time or place he may appoint. 

Daz. The sooner the better, sir. Allow me to offer you my arm. I 
see you understand these matters ; — my friend Spanker is wofully ig- 
norant — miserably uneducated. [Exeunt, l. 



ACT v.] LONDON ASSUKANCE. 49 



Re-enter Max, idUK Grace, r. 

Max. Give ye joy, girl, give ye joy. Sir Harcourt Couvtley must con- 
sent to waive all title to your hand ifi favor of his son Charles. 

Grace. Oh, indeed! Is that the pitch of your congratulation— 
humph ! the exchange of an old fool for a young one 1 Pardon me if 
I am not able to distinguish the advantage. ' 

Max Advantage ! 

Grace. Moreover, by what right am I a transferable cipher in the 
family of Courtley y So, then, my fate is reduced to this, to sacrifice 
my fortune, or unite myself with a worm-eaten edition of the Classics ! 

Max. Why, he certainly is not such a fellow as I could have chosen 
for my little Grace ; but consider, to retain fifteen thousand a-year ! 
Now, tell me honestly — but why should I say Jionestly f Speak, girl, 
would you rather not have the lad ? 

Grace. Why do you ask me 1 

Max. Why, look ye, I'm an old fellow ; another hunting season or 
two, and I shall be in at my own death — I can't leave you this house 
and land, because they are entailed, nor can I say I am sorry for it. for 
it is a good law ; but I have a little box with my Grace's name upon it, 
where, since your father's death and miserly will, I have yearly placed 
a certain sum to be yours, should you refuse to fulfill the conditions 
prescribed. 

Grace. My own dear uncle ! (clasjnng him round the neck.) 

Max. Pooh ! pooh ! what's to do now 1 Why, it was only a trifle — 
why, you little rogue, what are you crying about? 

Grace. Nothing, but^ 

Max. But what 1 Come, out with it. Will you have young Courtley 1 

Be-enter Lady Gay, l. 

Ladt G. Oh ! Max, Max ! 

Max. Why, what's amiss with you"? 

Lady G. I'm a wicked woman ! 

Max. What have you done 1 

Lady G. Everything — oh, I thought Sir Harcourt was a coward, but 
now I find a man may be a coxcomb without being a poltroon. Just 
to show my husband how inconvenient it is ta hold the ribands some- 
times, I made him send a challenge to the old fellow, and he, to mj'- 
surprise, accepted it, and is going to blow ray Dolly's brains out in the 
billiard-room. 

Max. The devil ! 

Lady G. Just when I imagined I had got ray whip hand Of him again, 
out comes ray linch-pin — and over I go — oh ! 

Max. I will soon put a stop to that — a duel under my roof ! Murder 
in Oak Hall ! I'll shoot them both ! [Exit, h. 

Grace. Are you really in earnest 1 

Lady G. Do you think it looks like a joke ? Oh I Dolly, if you al- 
low yourself to be shot, I will never forgive you — never! Ah, he is a 
great fool, Grace 1 but I can't tell why, I would sooner lose my bridle 
hand than he should be hurt on my account, {two shots are Jilted with- 
out, L.) 

Enter Sir Harcourt, l. 

Tell me— tell me— have you shot him — is he dead — my dear Sir Har- 



50 LONDON ASSURANCE. [aCT V. 

court 1 You horrid old brute — have you killed him ? I shall never 
forgive myself. [Exit, l. 

Grace. Oh ! Sir Harcourt, what has happened ? 

Sir H. Don't be alarmed, I beg — your uncle interrupted us — dis- 
charged the weapons — locked the challenger up in the billiard-room to 
cool his rage. 

Grace. Tliank Heaven ! 

Sir H. Miss Grace, to apologize for my conduct were useless, more 
especially as I am confident that no feelings of indignation or sorrow 
for ray late acts are cherished by you ; but still, reparation is in my 
power, and I not only waive all title, right, or claim to your person or 
your fortune, but freely admit your power to bestow them on a more 
worthy object. 

Grace. This generosity, Sir Harcourt, is most unexpected. 

Sir H. No, not generosity, but simple juritice, justice ! 

Grace. May I still beg a favor ? 

Sir H. Claim anything that is mine to grant. 

Grace. You have been duped by Lady Gay Spanker, I have also 
been cheated and played upon by her and Mr. Hamilton — may I beg 
that the contract between us, may, to all appearances, be still held 
good 1 

Sir H. Certainly, although I confess I cannot see the point of your 
purpose. 

Enter Max, icith Young Courtley, l. 

Max. Now, Grace, I have brought the lad. 

Grace. Thank you, uncle, but the trouble was quite unnecessary — 
Sir Harcourt holds to his original contract. 

Max. The deuce he does ! 

Grace. And I am willing — nay, eager, to become Lady Courtley. 

Young C. (aside). The deuce you are ! 

Max. But, Sir Harcourt 

Sir H. One word, Max, for an instant, (they retire, l.) 

Young C. (aside). What can this mean 1 Can it be possible that I 
have been mistaken — that she is not in love with Augustus Hamilton 1 

Grace.. Now we shall find how he intends to bend the haughty 
Grace. 

Young C. Madam— Miss, I mean — are you really in earnest — are you 
in love with my father 1 

Grace. No, indeed 1 am not. 

YoDNG C. Are you in love with any one else 1 

Grace. No, or I should not marry him. 

Young C Then you actually accept him as your real husband 1 

GRACE.*Li.Lhe common acceptation of the word. 

Young C. (aside). Hang me if I have not been a pretty fool ! (aloud) 
Wliy do you marry him, if you don't care about him ] 

Grace. To save my fortune. 

Young C. (aside). Mercenary, cold-hearted girl ! (alo.ud) But if there 
be any one you love in the least — marry him. Were you never in 
love? 

Grace. Never ! 

Young C. (aside). Oh ! what an ass I've been ! (aloud) I hea^d Lady 
Gay mention something about a Mr. Hamilton. 

Grace. Ah, yes, a person who, after an acquaintanceship of two days, 
had the assurance to make love to me, and I 

Young C. Yes — you — well 1 

Grace. I pretended to receive his attentions. 



ACT v.] LONDON ASSURANCE. .51 

Young C. (aside). It was the best pretence I ever saw. 

Grace. An absurd, vain, conceited coxcomb, who appeared to 
imagine that I was so struck with his fulsome speech that he could turn 
me around his finger. 

YouxG C. (aside). My very thoughts ! 

Grace. But he was mistaken. 

Young C. (aside). Confoundedly ! (a^6>i^(Z) Yet you seemed rather con- 
cerned about the news of his death. 

Grace. His accidei\t 1 No, but 

Young C. But what 1 

Grace, (aside). What can I say? (aloud) Ah! but ray maid Pert's 
brother is a post-boy, and I thought he might have sustained an injury, 
poor boy. 

Young C. (aside). D— n the post-boy ! (aloud) Madam, if the reten- 
tion of your fortune be the plea on which you are about to bestow your 
hand on the one you do not love, and whose very actions speak his 
carelessness for that inestimable jewel he is incapable of appreciating — 
know that I am devotedly, madly attached to you. 

Grace. You, sir 1 Impossible ! 

YouxG C. Not at all — but inevitable — I have been so for a long time. 

Grace. Why, you never saw me until last night. 

Young C. I have seen you in imagination — you are the ideal I have 
worshipped. 

Grace. Since you press me into a confession— which nothing but 
this could bring me to speak — know, I did love poor Augustus Hamil- 
ton — 

Re-enter Max and Sir Harcourt. 

but he — he is — no — more ! Pray, spare me, sir. 

Young C. (aside). She loves me ! And, oh ! what a situation I am 
in ! — if I own I am the man, ray governor will overhear, and ruin me — 
if I do not, she'll marry him. What is to be done ] 

Enter Lady Gay, l. 

Lady G. Where have you put my Dolly 1 I have been racing all 
round the house — tell me, is he quite dead ! 

Max. I'll have hira brought in. [Exit, l. 

Sir H. My dear madara, you must perceive this unfortunate occur- 
rence was no fault of mine. I was compelled to act as I have done — I 
was willing to offer any apology, but that resource was excluded as un- 
acceptable. 

Lady G. I know — I know — 'twas I made him write that letter — there 
was no apology required — 'twas I that apparently seduced you from 
the paths of propriety — 'twas all a joke, and here is the end of it. 

Enter Max, Spanker and Dazzle, l. 

Oh ! if he had but lived to say, " I forgive you Gay!" 

Span. So I do ! 

Lady G. (seeing Jiim). Ah ! he is alive ! 

Span. Of couVse i am I 

Lady G. Ha ! ha ! ha ' {embraces him) I will never hunt again — un- 
less you wish it. Sell your stable 

Span. No, no — do what you like — say what you like for the future '. 



52 LONDON ASSURANCE [aCT V. 

I find the head of a family has less ease and more responsibility than I, 
as a member, could have anticipated. I abdicate ! 

Enter Cool, l. 

Sir H. Ah! Cool, here! {aside to Cool) You may destroy those 
papers — I have altered my mind, and I do not intend to elope at pre- 
sent. Where are they 1 

Cool. As you seemed particular, Sir Harcourt, I sent them off to 
London by mail. 

Sir H. Why, then, a full description of the whole affair will be pub- 
lished to-morrow. 

Cool. Most irretrievably ! 

Sir H. You must post to town immediately, and stop the press. 

Cool. Beg pardon — but they would see me hanged first, Sir Har- 
court ; they don't frequently meet with such a profitable lie. 

Servant {without). No, sir ! no, sir! 

Enter Simpson, l. 

Simpson. Sir, there's a gentleman, who calls himself Mr. Solomon 
Isaacs, insists upon following me up. \Exit, l. 

Enter Mu. Solomon Isaacs, l. 

Isaacs. Mr. Courtley, you will excuse my performance of a most 
disagreeable duty at any time, but more especially in such a manner. 
I must beg the honor of your company to town. 

Siu H. What ! how ! what for ? 

Isaacs. For debt. Sir Harcourt. 

Sir H. Arrested ? impossible ! Here must be some mistal?e. 

Isaacs. Not the slightest, sir. Judgment has been given in five cases, 
for the last three months; but Mr. Courtley is an eel rather too nimble 
for my men. We have been on his track, and traced him down to this 
village, with Mr. Dazzle. 

Daz. Ah ! Isaacs ! how are you 1 

Isaacs. Thank you, sir. {speaks to Sir Harcourt.) 

Max. Do you know him 1 

Daz. Oh, intimately ! Distantly related to his family — same arms on 
our escutcheon — empty purse falling thro' a hole in a — pocket; motto, 
" Requiescat in pace " — which means, " Let virtue be its own reward." 

Sir H. {to Isaacs). Oh, I thought there was a mistake I Know, to 
your misfortune, that Mr. Augustus Hamilton was the person you dog- 
ged to Oak Hall, between whom and my son a most remarkable like- 
ness exists. 

Isaacs. Ha! ha! Know, to your misfortune, Sir Harcourt, that Mr. 
Hamilton and Mr. Courtley are one and the same person ! 

Sir H. Charles ! 

Young C. Concealment is in vain — I am Augustus Hamilton. 

Sir H. Hang me if I didn't think it all along ! Oh you infernal coz- 
ening dog! {crosses to 7dm.) 

Isaacs. Now, then, Mr. Hamilton 

Grace. Stay, sir — Mr. Charles Courtley is under age — ask his father. 

Sir H. Ahem !— I won't — I won't pay a shilling of the rascal s 
debts — not a sixpence ! 

Grace. Then I will — you may retire. [Exit Isaacs, l. 

Young C. I can now perceive the generous point of your conduct to- 



ACT V. ] LONDON ASSURANCE. 53 

wards rae ; and, believe me, I appreciate, and will endeavor to de- 
serve it. 

Max. Ha! ha ! Come, Sir Harcourt, you have been fairly beaten — 
you must forgive him — say you will. 

Sir H. So, sir, it appears you have been leading, covertly, an infer- 
nal town life ? 

Young C. Yes, please, father, {imitating Master Charles.) 

SiK H. None of your humbug, sir ! {aside) He is my own son — how 
could I expect him to keep out of the fire 1 {aloud) And you, Mr. 
Cool ! — have you been deceiving me 1 

Cool. Oh ! Sir Harcourt, if youi' perception was played upon, how 
could /be expected to see 1 [Exit, l. 

Sir H. Well, it would be useless to withhold my hand. There, boy ! 
(he gives his hand to Young Courtley. Grace comes down on the 
other side and offers her hand ; he takes it) What is all this 1 What 
do you wanti 

Young C. Your blessing, father. 

Grace. If you please, father. 

Sir H. Oho ! the mystery is being solved. So, so, you young scoun- 
drel, you have been making love — under the rose. 

Lady G. He learnt that from you. Sir Harcourt. 

Sir H. Ahem! What would you do now, if I were to withhold my 
consent 1 

Grace. Do without it. 

Max The will says, if Grace marries any one but you, her property 
reveits to your heir-apparent — and there he stands. 

Lady G. Make a virtue of necessity. 

Span. I married from inclination, and see how happy I am. And if 
ever I have a son 

Lady G. Hush! Dolly, dear! 

Sir H. Well ! take her, boy ! Although you are too young to marry. 

[They retire with Max. 

Lady G. Am I forgiven. Sir Harcourt 1 

Sir H. Ahem ! Why — a — {aside) Have you really deceived me 1 

Lady G. Can you not see through this? 

Sir H. And you still love me 1 

Lady G. As much as 1 ever did. 

Sir H. {is about to kiss her hand, when Spanker interposes hetioeen) 
A very handsome ring indeed. 

Span. Very, {puts her arm in his and they go up.) 

Sir H. Poor little Spanker ! 

Max. {coming down, aside to Sir Harcourt). One point I wish to 
have settled. Who is Mr. Dazzle? 

Sir H. a relative of the Spankers, he told me. 

Max. Oh, no, a near connection of yours. 

Sir H. Never saw him before I came down here, in all my life, {to 
Yodng Courtley) Charles, who is Mr. Dazzle"? 

Young C. Dazzle, Dazzle — will you excuse an impertinent question 7 
—but who the deuce are you *? 

Daz. Certainly ; I have not the remotest idea. 

All. How, sir ] 

Daz. Simple question as you may think it. it would puzzle half the 
world to answer. One thing I can vouch— Nature made me a gentle- 
man — that is, I live on the best that can be procured for credit. [ 
never spend my own money when I can oblige a friend. I'm always 
thick on the winning horse. I'm an epidemic on the trade of tailoi-. 
For further particulars inquire of any sitting magistrate. 



51 LONDON ASSUEANCE. [aCT V. 

Sm H. And these are the deeds which attest your title to the name 
of gentleman 1 I perceive you have caught the infection of the pre- 
sent age, Charles, permit me, as your father, and you, sir, as his 
fiiend, to correct you on one point. Barefaced assurance is the vulvar 
substitute for gentlemanly ease ; and there are many, who, by aping the 
vices (A the great, imagine that they elevate themselves to the rank of 
those, whose faults alone they copy. No, sir ! The title of gentleman 
is the only one out of any monarch's gift, yet within the reach of 
overy peasant. It should be engrossed by Truth — stamped with 
Honor — sealed with good-feeling — signed Man — and enrolled in every 
itue young English heart. 

CURTAIN. 



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No. 5. DE WITT'S "DRAMATIC" SCHOOL SPEAKER. 

This book furnishes a much needed collection of the most justly popular 
pieces in the language — pieces as remarkable for the purity of the sentiment 
as the chaste eloquence of the phrases. They arc all characterized by 
strength, eloquence, and, in many instances, by grandeur of expression. 
All of the articles are eminently fitted for oratorical practice and display in 
Private as well as Public Schools, Academies and other institutions of 
education. 

No. 6. DE WITT'S "COMIC" SCHOOL SPEAKER. 

This most amusing book includes in its pages a great number of the best 
humorous pieces in the language. They are of all shades of fun. from the 
most delicate playfulness to the most broadly farcical, but all full of the 
very spirit of harmless jollity. While some of the pieces are those old 
standard rscitations that never tire or stale by repetition, many others are 
full of the new, and fresh, and original humor of the times. 

*;jj* Single copies sent on receipt of price, postage free. 

|^~ Address as per first page of this Catalogue. 



DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS (Continued). 



No. 
144. 

34. 
137. 
111. 
119. 
165. 

48. 

32. 
164. 
109. 

85. 

87. 
143. 
189. 
163. 
154. 

63. 

39. 

49." 

15. 

46. 

51. 
184. 
108. 



130. 
92. 
193. 

140. 

115. 
2. 

57. 
.104. 
112. 
185. 

84. 
117. 



173. 
176. 
90. 
170. 



172. 

94. 

45. 
155. 

178. 

147. 
156. 



Lancashire Lass, melodrama, 5 acts. 12 
Larkins' Love Letters, farce, 1 act. . 3 

L' Article 47, drama, 3 acts 11 

Liar (The), comedy, 2 acts 7 

Life Chase, drama, 5 acts .■ .14 

Living Statue (The), farce, 1 act 3 

Little Annie's Birthday, farce, 1 act. 2 

Little Eebel, farce, 1 act 4 

Little Ruby, drama, 3 acts 6 

Locked In, comedietta, 1 act 2 

Locked In with a Lady, sketch, 1 act. 1 

Locked Out. comic scene 1 

Lodgers and Dodgers, farce, 1 act.. 4 
Leap Year, musical duality, 1 act. . . 1 

Marcoretti , drama, 3 acts 10 

IVIaria and Magdalena, play, 4 acts . 8 
Marriage at Any Price, farce, 1 act. 5 
Master Jones' Birthday, farce, 1 act. 4 

Maud's Peril, drama, 4 acts 5 

Midnight Watch, drama, 1 act 8 

Milky White, drama, 2 acts 4 

Miriam's Crime, drama, 3 acts 5 

Model of a Wife, farce, 1 act 3 

Money, comedy, 5 acts 17 

Mr. Scroggins, farce, 1 act 3 

Mrv.X., farce, 1 act 3 

My Uncle's Suit, farce, 1 act 4 

My Wife's Diary, farce, 1 act 3 

My Wife's Out, farce, 1 act 2 

My Walking Photograph, musical 

duality, 1 act 1 

Never Reckon Your Chickens, etc., 

farce, 1 act 3 

New Meu and Old Acres, comedy, 3 8 



Nobody's Child, drama, 3 acts.. ... 8 

Noemie, drama, 2 acts 4 

No Name, drama, 5 acts 7 

Not a Bit Jealous, farce, 1 act 3 

Not So Bad as We Seem, play, 5 acts. 14 

Not Guilty, drama, 4 acts 10 6 

Not Such a Fool as He Looks, drama, 

3 acts 5 4 

Nothing Like Paste, farce, 1 act 3 1 

No Thoroughfare, drama, 5 acts andi£} 

prologue 13 6 

Off the^ Stage, comedietta, 1 act 3 3 

On Bread and Water, farce, 1 act. . . 1 2 

Only a Halfpenny, farce, 1 act 2 2 

Only Somebody, farce, 1 act... 4 2 

One too Many for Him, farce, 1 act. 2 3 

£100,000, comedy, 3 acts 8 4 

Orange Blossoms, comedietta, 1 act. 3 3 
Orange Girl, drama, in prologue 

and 3 acts 18 4 

Ours, comedy, 3 acts 6 3 

Our Clerks, farce, 1 act 7 5 

Our Domestics, comedy farce, 2 acts 6 6 

Our Heroes, military play, 5 acts. . .24 5 
Out at Sea, drama in prologue and 

4 acts 16 5 

Overland Route, comedy, 3 acts 11 5 

Peace at Any Price, farce, 1 act 1 1 

Peep o' Day, drama, 4 acts 12 4 

Peggy Green, farce, 1 act 3 10 

Petticoat Parliament, extravaganza, 

in one act 15 24 

Photographic Fix, farce, 1 act 3 2 

A COMPLETE 



No. 
61. 
138. 



M. P. 



110. 
50. 



Plot and Passion, drama, 3 acts 7 2 

Poll and Partner Joe, burlesque, 1 

act 10 3 

Poppleton's Predicaments, farce, 13 6 

Porter's Knot, drama, 2 acts 8 2 

59. Post Boy, drama, 2 acts 5 3 

95. Pretty Horse-Breaker, farce, 1 act . . 3 10 
181 and 182. Queen Mary, drama, 4 acts.38 8 

157. Quite at Home, comedietta, 1 act. . . 5 2 
196. Queerest Courtship (The), comic op 

eretta, 1 act 1 1 

132. Race for a Dinner, farce, 1 act 10 

183. Richelieu, play, 5 acts 16 2 

38. Riahtf ul Heir, drama, 5 acts 10 2 

77. Roll of the Drum, drama, 3 acts 8 4 

13. Ruy Bias, drama, 4 acts 12 4 

194. Rum, drama, 3 acts 7 4 

195. Rosemi Shell, travesty. 1 act, 4 

scenes 6 3 

158. School, comedy, 4 acts 6 

79. Sheep in Wolf's Clothing, drama, 1 7 

37. Silent Protector, farce, 1 act 3 

35. Silent W^oman, farce, 1 act 2 

43. Sisterly Service, comedietta, 1 act.. 7 
6. Six Months Ago, comedietta, 1 act. 2 

10. Snapping Turtles, duologue, 1 act. . 1 

26. Society, comedy, 3 acts 16 

Special Performances, farce, 1 act. . 7 

Taming a Tiger, farce, 1 act 3 

Tell-Tale Heart, comedietta, 1 act. . 1 
Tempest in a Teapot, comedy, 1 act. 2 
There's no Smoke Without Fire, 

comedietta, 1 act 1 

83. Thrice Married, personation piece, 

lact 6 

42. Time and the Hour, drama, 3 acts . . 7 

27. Time and Tide, drama, 3 acts and 

prologue 7 

133. Timothy to the Rescue, farce, 1 act. 4 
153. 'Tis Better to Live than to Die, 

farce, 1 act 2 

134. Tompkins the Troubadour, farce, 1 3 
29. Turning the Tables, farce, 1 act 5 

168. Tweedie's Rights, comedy, 2 acts.. 4 

126. Twice Killed, farce, 1 act 6 

56. Two Gay Deceivers, farce, 1 act 3 

123. Two Polts, farce, 1 act 4 

198. Twin Sisters (The), comic operetta, 

lact 3 

162. Uncle's Will, comedietta, 1 act 2 

106. Up for the Cattle Show, farce, 1 act. 6 
81. Vandyke Brown, farce, 1 act 3 

124. Volunteer Review, farce, 1 act 6 

91. Walpole, comedy, 3 acts 7 

118. Wanted, a Young Lady, farce, 1 act. 3 

44. War to the Knife, comedy, 3 acts. . . 5 
105. Which of the Two? comedietta, 1 act 2 

98. Who is Who? farce, 1 act. 3 

12. Widow Hunt, comedy, 3 acts 4 

5. William Tell with a Vengeance, 

burlesque 

Woman in Red, drama, 3 acts and 

prologue — 6 

Woman's Vows and Mason's Oaths, 

4 acts 10 

Woodcock's Little Game, farce, 2 4 
Young Collegian (Cantab.), farce, 1 3 



31. 
150. 
120. 
146. 



136. 
161. 



8 2 



DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE 



of DE WITT S ACTING PLAYS AND DE WITT'S 
ETHIOPIAN AND COMIC DRAMAS , containing Plot, Costume, Scenery, 
Time of Representation and every other information, mailed free and post paid. Address, 
EGBERT M. DE WITT, 33 Rose Street, New York. 



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